A Series of Unexpected Occurrences Fiolee (Lemon)
by werewolf6780
Summary: This is a sequel to "A Series of Unexpected Events: Fluffy Fiolee Lemon". Fiona is suffering from Marshall Lee's venom. Will he stop her before she destroys herself, or give in to his own demons? If the demon overwhelms him...what will he do to Fiona? Please review
1. Chapter 1

A Series of Unexpected Occurrences

(Sequel to "A Series of Unexpected Events")

I don't own Adventure Time

By: werewolf6780

Marshall yawned and walked out of his cave. "Freaking sunlight." he hissed at the rapidly disappearing sunset. He shook out the lichen from his hair and sighed. He looked around. He was about a mile from Fiona's house, but the adventurer was probably out at the late hour. Cake was usually with Fiona, but he hadn't seen Fiona in weeks. She seemed to be avoiding him. He rubbed his eyes and began the trek to her house. He floated up to Fiona's window (she always forgot to lock it) and froze. There was a note flipping in the cool wind, taped to the window. It smelled very faintly of Fiona and the outdoors. Some of the writing was faint and blurred. The paper was crinkled from being in the rain and dried by the sun, but it was still legible.

Hey Marshall,

I'm sorry. I'll be back soon. If you're reading this, you can come in. We need to talk anyway…but there's cherry pie in the fridge if you want.

-Fiona

Marshall smiled and pulled the note from the windowpane. Some of the ink was runny and faded, and the paper wrinkled from being in the rain, but it was still legible.

"Little bunny…are you trying to trick me?" he murmured, the crisp wind taking his words.

He opened the window and floated in, knowing that she would be out for a while yet. Her home was warm, contrasting with the chill of the frost outside. Marshall felt his body adjust slowly to the warmer temperature.

He sighed and flopped on her bed.

_Why are you suddenly so eager to see me Fi? After you avoided me for nearly a month…what changed…to make you miss me? Did you discover my trick to have you all to myself? On the other hand… is it my venom calling to you, making you desire me again? Was I wrong…to inject you…and make you need me…in fear that you would leave me?_

Soon the vampire was sleeping peacefully, enveloped in Fiona's scent.

Fiona arrived home, stripping off her boots on the welcome mat to let the snow dissolve. She unwound her scarf, peeled off her gloves, pulled off her backpack, and pulled off her long coat. Cake crawled out from her pocket, and stretching to her normal size with her fur fluffed enormously.

"Giiiirl what is _wrong_ with you? There is nothing fun about the cold and wet and ugh! I'm going to SLEEP. At least my dreams are warm…," she grumbled, crawling up on the couch to curl up, her tail thrown over her face.

Fiona smiled. "Don't be such a wimp. Snow is fun! Besides, you know how Ice Queen gets when it snows. Those snow women might have reached the candy kingdom before spring."

"Hmpf!" was Cake's only response.

Fiona rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm going to my room so that I can get my feet warmed up, if you need me."

She walked up to her room, rubbing her neck. It was throbbing again with that pleasant…want. She stopped halfway up the steps, breathing deeply. She felt her wrists start to throb.

"Damn!" she whispered, crouching on the stair, grasping her wrist.

She whimpered as she felt the throbbing intensify, the ache building unusually high. She groaned, feeling her body warm. Her breath came fast.

"No…no…stop it…" she whispered, pleading with her disobedient body. She scratched at her wrist, desperate to relieve the pressure building her. She pounded up the steps, hissing at the throb. She felt her thighs begin to throb, along with her temples.

"Ungh! It's never been…this…bad…before…" she panted, wobbling up the last two steps.

She stopped dead at the top. Marshall…was in her bed. She stared at him, examining him. He had on ripped blue jeans, his trusty red converse, and a red and black plaid shirt. He was lying on his left side, with his right hand gripping the furs of her bed. His face had the same vulnerable expression she had first seen on him…those weeks ago…when they were trapped in his home by the odd snowstorm. She felt her blood pound, making her fall to her knee at the pain. The need to relieve the pressure was worse than it had ever been before. Her vision blurred at the edges. She groaned and crawled into her bathroom, throwing the wood door shut.

"UNGH! Glob…ah…" she groaned, blindly searching…needing…

Her hand clasped the pointed scissors from the sink, an ephemeral burst of relief surging through her at the feel of the cool metal. She turned, her back to the sink, and held the scissors open, pushing one of the blades against her wrist, next to the other lines she had made…she forced it down, groaning as she felt it pierce her skin…she waited for the throbbing to fade…but it only intensified.

"Agh!" she whimpered, staring as the thin trail of blood dripped off her wrist. The throbbing felt as if she had become her own heart, the heat and throbbing so intense, she felt tears drip, mixing with the blood on her wrist. She felt like her blood was on fire, surging inside her, begging to break out. She let a low moan escape her lips, sounding like a defeated animal. She shut the scissors, so that the blades lay next to each other, and stabbed down, puncturing her wrist. A small bust of relief speared through her. She ignored the pain and viciously stabbed down at her wrist again, and again…until she heard the door fling open. She gasped, her heart pounding. She felt the scissors ripped from her hand.

"No!" she begged, seeing her only relief thrown into the bathtub.

She glared at Marshall, his hands wrapped tightly around her bleeding wrist, her pain remounting.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing Fiona? Do you want to die!" he snarled, his eyes widening as he assessed the amount of blood already pooled on the floor.

"No! I just want the pain to stop! Agh!" She groaned, the throbbing building in her again. She scratched at his hands, desperation driving her to cause his blackened blood to sluggishly crawl from the scratches she inflicted on him.

"PLEASE!" she begged, thrashing in his hold.

"Fiona. Stop." He snarled, his tone holding all the command of a vampire ensnaring the panic-thrown mind of a human.

"I know how to make the pain go away, ok?"

"Please…" she whimpered, a cold sweat accumulating on her already clammy skin.

Marshall hissed and sank his fangs into Fiona's wrist, her body jerking at the icy wash that crawled through her veins, she felt the pressure fade into a pleasurable hum, the feel of his teeth eradicating all her pain.

"Oh…" she murmured, diving into the golden sea that enveloped her.

Marshall watched as the girl's grimace jumped to shock and slowly melted to bliss, before she went limp – losing consciousness to the high he had given her. He pulled his fangs from the girls flesh, watching as his venom covered her glaring wound in a blurry membrane. It would begin healing her within seconds with all the power he had channeled into it. He felt his head spin slightly at the sudden usage of so much power. He stared at the edges of her wound, where the sides of healing cuts could be seen. He pulled her sleeve up…only to see her arm lined with shallow cuts, some obviously deeper than others. He jerked at the sight of her flesh, once so beautiful, now marred by lines that screamed of desperation to escape the pain…pain he had caused her. He had never fed more than once from a human. Had he known the consequences she would face, he never would have pierced her flesh the first time – no matter her appeal. He fearfully rolled up her other sleeve. It was, thankfully, free of marks. He sighed in relief at that small miracle, and gazed at Fiona's ravaged arm. He could see even older lines – lines that were shallow and left just the hint of a pink line. Her first cuts had been shallow, and grew with deepness as her need intensified. He stared down at her wound, his venom was already forcing her body's regenerative abilities into overdrive to close the wound. She would have a bruise there, but it thankfully wouldn't scar. He stared at the line on her arm – some were definitely going to scar, leaving a white line across her peachy flesh, unless he helped her. He held the limp girl's arm and began licking at the shallowest cuts, which faded into nonexistence in mere seconds. The deeper cuts took a few moments, but they closed and faded completely soon enough. He stared down at the girl, the girl whom he had teased, fought, and laid with in his bed for days. He sighed and sat with his back pressed against the door. The room reeked of her. It was making him sick with the scent of desperation and fear at being found out. The blood puddled on the floor masked the refreshing scent of her relief.

"Ugh…this scent…is disgusting." He growled, grabbing a white towel from the small bathroom closet and mopping up the girls spilled rubies. He lifted her, mopping her previous residence with his foot. His task accomplished, he kicked the towel into the bathtub, along with the bloodied shears. He carried Fiona to her bed and gingerly laid the resting girl onto the furs.

"Fi, what have you done to yourself?" he whispered, holding her wounded wrist in his hand. The wound was mostly closed, but still very shiny with his venom.

"This…is not a solution. The good thing to do would be to get that terbonerd Gumball to make a serum or something to eradicate my venom from her...but, I never claimed to be good." He whispered to the darkness, holding vigil beside the mortal beauty. However, deep inside, he admitted to himself that he wanted Fiona to need him, even if it was only to relieve her of himself. He sighed. When she awoke…she would likely accuse him of his crime. He curled up with his arms around his legs, gazing at the only girl to spark his interest since his mother's death. Too soon…he would have to face her, and likely be beaten to a pulp, knowing Fiona. He shook his head and rubbed his face, hating the fact that he would grow weary when the sun rose. If she chose to attack him, he would be at the disadvantage since he wouldn't be able to go near the windows or escape outside without his life perishing. "You've really got yourself into it now." He muttered to himself as he waited for the girl to awaken.

Fiona awoke to a pleasant haze. She felt like she was floating in pool of water so clear and pure that she was filled with nothing but a cool serenity. She sighed and stared at the golden sky, wishing that she could simply exist there…but she could see the sky growing brighter, warmer…she felt hands clamp around her wrist, dragging her into the blackened waters before she could scream. When she opened her eyes, she was under the water, but didn't feel the need to breathe. Marshall was floating in front of her, partially obscured in the shadows from the entrance to a cave. He gestured, crooking his finger to her, before he dissolved from her view. "What?" she whispered, bubbles emerging with each word. She swam into the cave, immediately losing all sight. She went to turn around, wanting the light back – only to realize the entrance was gone, her entryway looking more like the back of a cave than an entrance. She was trapped. She swam quickly in her fear, only to suddenly fall into a bathtub. "Oompf !" She huffed, having the breath knocked out of her. She looked up to see the blackened water she had fallen through seal up...and look as just another part of the stone ceiling. "What?" she whispered, confusion wracking her. She felt two arms snake around her and pull her flush against a body. She opened her mouth to scream, only to have a pale hand strike quickly covering her mouth before she could even draw in a breath. "Shh…don't be afraid my little morsel. I won't harm you…I promissssse… I do want you though…you are so sweet, like a flower caught in the rain. An innocence which, like a butterfly, is so easily crushed." Marshall murmured into her ear, his words like gravel, slithering from his mouth.

"What?" she whimpered, turning to see his face. His face was not the one she had come to know, it was one of voracious hunger. His fangs were protruding from his mouth obscenely, glaringly white. His eyes were a much more volatile demonic presence than she had ever seen. His eyes looked like they wanted to devour her soul. He hissed, his tongue dripping a blackened substance.

"Oh…g…g…"

"No, no we mustn't say his name…he has no place in hell my pet." He cooed, stroking her cheek with his frigid finger, cutting her with its curved claw.

"Ow! Marshall why are you-"

"No, no you don't understand. I am not Marshall, I am simply his venom, his demonic auora pervading your body. Sinking into you. Tainting you. Isn't it delicious?" he crooned in his twisted voice.

"G-get off me!" she screamed, watching as his face contorted with a hiss, flinching away from her, shielding its visage with its hands. She was pulled from the bathtub by a warm but firm hand.

"Quickly, this way!" a calming voice called to her. She stared at this Marshall, struck by his appearance. He was not ghastly pale, nor were his eyes demonic in such a horrifying way. The boy pulled her behind a jagged marble pillar, long ago broken.

"He shouldn't be able to pass beyond here. You're safe." He soothed her.

"Um…." She whispered gazing at this strange side of Marshall. His skin was warm and though paler than she, definitely not his usual deadened tone. His eyes were red, but reminded her more of the red you see when you close your eyes on a sunny day, rather than the chilling blood look of the demonic Marshall. His smile was just slightly too white, his fangs very subtle. His hair was a little longish than she was used to – it hung over his right eye and he kept brushing it back. He smiled at her, making his whole face light up.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his concern dripping from his tone.

"J-just a scratch…" she murmured, staring at this strange creature. He scrunched up his expression and then smiled, snapping his fingers.

"I've got just the thing!" he said cheerfully and very gently kissed her cheek. Warmth spread from the kiss until she felt like her whole body was gently caressed by the sun.

"There. That…ah, should…augh…do it…" he gasped, coughing and falling to one knee.

"Oh glob! Marshall! Are you ok?" she asked, bending down to the shuddering boy.

"Yeah…ah…'m fine…just…angh…need a minute…" he wheezed, shuddering, as an identical cut to the one Fiona had received appeared on his cheek, three times deeper than her own had been. Bright red blood dripped from the wound, staining the boy's white shirt.

"Marshall seriously-"

"'S not my name…ah…I'm not Marshall, I'm just…ah…his humanity."

"But…that other thing-"

"Was my other half. He's the hate and sadness inside Marshall…I'm the other side. I suppose I should thank you for freeing me."

"Freeing you? But you saved me!"

"Well not really, I couldn't just sit there and let you get hurt…after all silly bunny – you're the only reason I was released from that cage." He whispered, stroking her cheek lightly.

She stared at him, worrying more as the wound on his cheek continued to flow…

"You shouldn't look so worried, I'll be fine as soon as the sun rises. Promise me you won't be too put out with Marshall though, alright?"

"Uh…alright…" she murmured, confusion circling in her mind.

She felt the peculiar boy hold her very close, hugging her gently but strongly – as if he didn't want to let her go. She felt his warm lips brush her ear. "Fiona," he breathed, "wake up." She felt herself being pulled from the boy's arms, lifting her up in the light, as the warm-hearted boy released her, his surroundings grew darker. In the shadows, she saw a flash of rabid red eyes…creeping towards the sweet boy…

"No!" She woke with a start, her heart pounding. She gripped the furs of her bed tightly, confirming to herself that she was awake. "Oh Glob…" she whispered, rubbing her face to dispel the vision. She looked around, surprised to see that it was just becoming dawn…the sun's light peeking over the horizon. At the foot of the bed was a black wolf, curled up, whimpering in its sleep. Its legs thrashed as the whines careened from its muzzle in such a heartbreaking concerto that she shook the beast awake. It jerked upright upon seeing her and looked around. It's dark red eyes were deeply apologetic, reminding her of the boys from her dream…his eyes were dangerous, but the intent behind them was kind. A perfect balance.

"Marshall?" she whispered, fearing he would proclaim himself as some piece in the whole.

He shifted back to his most common form, floating a couple inches from her bed with his legs crossed. He smiled gently.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

":I'm…fine…I think…" she murmured, looking at her wrist. The wound was gone…she pulled up her sleeve to look at her arm, shocked to see the skin unmarked.

"Did you do this?" she asked

"Yes…I suppose…what you wanted to talk about…?" he said uneasily, glancing at her bedroom window.

"I…was going to ask you…some things…but…now I can see how…conflicted you are. You…need someone…to care about, right?" Fiona whispered, crawling to Marshall.

She wrapped her arms around him firmly, holding him close.

"Marshall…that's ok…that you can't keep the demon inside in check…"

"Don't say that. I can see it in your eyes. You…you hate me. I'm a…I'm what my father always desired me to be – a monster."

"Shh…no…don't say things like that." She whispered, leaning in…stopping with their lips a hairs-breath away…

"Please don't."

"Why?"

"I don't want to…taste you."

"Yes you do."

"I shouldn't"

"Can you actually prevent yourself from the want…?"

"Yes."

"Marshall…don't lie. Don't lie…"

"I…"

"Shh…" she soothed him, slowly melding her lips to his cool and unresponsive ones.

She continue to kiss him gently until she felt his tears drip onto her own cheek.

"Marshall…lay with me."

"No, I won't hurt you again, don't make me, don't let me dose you up again…it might wear off if I stay away, if I-"

"Shh…Marshall…I want you."

"W-what? Why?"

"Because I am the only light strong enough to hold your demons at bay. Let me do this for you…let me…let me save your humanity." She whispered, pulling him with her as she laid back, kissing the darkened tears from his cheeks. "I've been dreaming about you…a lot…lately…," she whispered between gentle kisses.

"Oh really? What kind of dreaming would that be?" he whispered, his tone dark.

"Dreams that make me wake up, aching, remembering you…remembering us together on that perfectly snowy night…did you always intend to make me your prey, or was it the fact that you feared for me, wanted something to protect…but not something that would die easily…" she whispered, running her teeth along his jaw.

"Well you know how it is…when a wolf sees a rabbit…the chase is on."

"Then come and get me." Fiona growled, ripping open his shirt, smoothing her palms along his chest.

"Fiona," he growled "don't tempt me."

"I'm not tempting you, I'm demanding that you fix what you've done! Your venom is inside me, making my blood ache to be drank and my body disobey me…I can't even gain my own release because of you. So…give me, what you're forcing me to need." She moaned, stripping off her shirt.

"Fi…"

"Please?" she whispered

She could see Marshall war with himself, both sides of his soul needing her, needing her for different reasons, but needing her all the same.

"Fiona…I don't know what a continued exposure to my venom will do you, or if due to my venom, your mind will be susceptible to my commands…or my body."

"Then make me yours." She whispered, roughly biting his lip.

"Are you sure…you want that…? Or am I already affecting you, making you think that you need me?"

Fiona shook her head and unhooked her bra, sliding off her shoes, stockings and skirt, hating that she had to squirm to get it off. She felt Marshall's hand grip her ankle and pull her towards him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he purred, crawling between her legs. He gently kissed her lips, groaning at the feel of her heat soaking into him.

"I just…need…"

"I know…I know. I would be cruel…to deny you…in such a state." he whispered, pulling off his pants. He pushed himself against her, the thin fabric of her panties the only thing keeping her from him. He licked her neck, grazing her hip with his nail.

"Why do you even wear these?" he whispered, tearing her panties off her.

Fiona moaned, arching, needing…

"Please…" she whispered.

"Not yet…" he murmured, kissing her ear.

"Marshall…"

"No…" he whispered, sliding himself along her folds, stilling every time she bucked.

She whined in frustration.

He kissed her neck, gently sliding his fangs over her pulse, and held her mounds in his hands. He flicked her nipples, sensitized due to his cooler flesh, making her squirm under him, trying to gain release. He kissed his way down to her stomach and slid his tongue in her belly button, expectantly making her gasp. He slid a finger into her, making her moan.

"Not…enough…" she groaned, bucking against his gentle ministrations.

He slid another finger into her and began slowly moving them in and out of her glistening folds. The fur below her was dampened with her juices. He groaned and growled, hating that she felt so damn good, his memories of the dreams that passed since her departure…all the built up fantasies of having her…

She huffed and grabbed his wrist, pulling his fingers from her. She pushed him back roughly and mounted him, glaring into his eyes. She poised herself above him, his tip twitching at the proximity of her entrance. He hissed at the tease, sliding his tongue out to lick up her stomach. She smiled and slid herself slowly down on him. He gasped, his nails digging into her hips as he writhed with the slow torment. He gasped, feeling her raise and lower herself, using his chest to help her keep her balance. She kept up a slow but steady pace, driving Marshall to hiss and snarl with need. She stopped, her legs shaking.

"I'm kinda tired…" she panted. She felt Marshall flip her over and slide into her again, moaning.

"So…soft…" he groaned, nuzzling her neck.

He pumped into her quickly, moaning at the sensation of her tightening.

It had been too long…

He groaned, hugging her close to him, and sank his fangs deeply into her neck.

He heard her moan and tasted her as she came in his arms. She tasted like a honey, warmed in the sun, and rosy with the petals from which it was made.

He felt himself drowning in her flavor, her essence; he ached as he felt her heart force his heart to beat. He shuddered, thrusting into her, feeling his blood surge through him. He growled and pulled his fangs and himself from her, flipping her over, and sliding into her again from behind. He struck again, his fangs piercing the other side of her neck, making her gasp and buck against the bed at the sensation. He drank deeply, feeling himself pour into her, both his seed and his venom. He pulled his teeth from her and ripped open his wrist with his teeth, holding it to her mouth.

"If you truly desire…to be by my side…then drink." He whispered, feeling Fiona tremble under him.

"Not tonight." She whispered shakily.

Marshall stared as the wound on his wrist and her neck healed rapidly. He slid his tongue along her neck and whispered, "Very well…though I make no promises that you'll continue not to desire my blood…it seems that we shall find out precisely what regular feedings from a vampire…will do to a human…" he whispered, licking her neck gently. "However, if you wish time to take you way, I will respect your decision to remain mortal. To remain…vulnerable…and warm." He murmured, kissing her shoulder.

The lover's fell asleep in each other's arms.

*Later that day*

Cake walked into Fiona's room, staring at her window.

"Why are the curtains shut?" she asked, glancing over to the bed, seeing the lovers together.

"WHAT THE-" She gasped, having Marshall flit over and cover her mouth.

"Shh…don't wake Fiona. She's exhausted." He purred.

She roughly pulled his hand away. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my-!" Marshall silenced her again.

"Silence feline! Allow me to dress and I'll explain…some. But if you wake her now there will be deadly consequences. Am I clear?" he whispered.

Cake felt her fur prickle, his demonic presence raking across her with his threat.

"Fine! But if you hurt her I will-!"

"What did I say? Silence! Wait in the kitchen. While you're at it, make some food. Fiona will need food when she wakes." He ordered, turning his back to her and pulling on his pants, not bothering with his boxers.

Cake fluffed indignantly and grumbled all the way down the steps.

Moments after she had started mixing the ingredients for pancake batter, she smelled Marshall enter.

"Would it kill you not to float everywhere?" she grumbled.

Marshall chuckled. "You don't want to know what happens if my power goes unused for too long. Its safer to use little everyday by floating rather than allow it to build up. If it builds up for too long, I'll wind up killing people."

Cake's tail fluffed monstrously.

"S-seriously? No joke?" she asked, shocked t the trivia.

"Yes. Now then. You want to know why I'm in your little sister's bed with her, right?"

Cake hissed at him and unsheathed her claws.

"I'm sure you remember Fiona speaking of a snow storm, right?"

"Well…yeah…but that was like a month ago-"

"When you and your LM were having some alone time, right?"

Cake turned to glare at him.

"What's it to you bat face?"

"Your little rendezvous sent Fiona to fend for herself. I knew Ice Queen would be fooling around and was trying to ah…catch a late night snack before preparing for the onslaught. I stumbled across Fiona, dripping wet. She had been wandering for hours. I asked if she wanted to spend the night at my place. She agreed. However, Ice Queen's meddling went a bit overboard. We were trapped for days. Stuff…happened…and it's created a problem. She needs me around, at least for now. If you want proof, all you have to do is ask her or you could just look in the bathtub. I showed up last night because she asked me to." He stated, pulling the crumpled note from his pocket, showing her. "Soon after I arrived, I found her cutting herself viciously with a pair of scissors. I stopped her and inadvertently discovered our little problem. If I leave, she'll be driven to cut again or suffer agony if she doesn't."

Cake added chocolate chips to the pancake mix, mulling over the vampire's words and frowned, reading the note. If she had made sure Fiona had somewhere to go, it never would have happened. She sighed and sat the mixing bowl down.

"Fine. I'm checking the bathroom." She huffed, stretching up the stairs and into the bathroom. The first thing she noticed was the stench. There was a stale but still dizzying scent of desperation and fear. She crawled over to the bathtub and looked in. She felt her stomach drop at the sight of the stained towel and bloodied scissors. She has seen Fiona just yesterday with the same scissors. When Cake asked why she had them, she said she just found them left out but…now…Cake looked over to the sleeping Fiona. She was breathing deeply in her slumber. Cake stretched above her sister and checked her neck. Both sides had two pink dots. She stretched back down to the kitchen and stared at Marshall.

"What?"

"You bit her!"

Marshall licked his lips. "She's delicious." He purred.

Cake hissed, slashing at the vampire.

"Don't you dare touch my Fiona, my baby!" she snarled.

Marshall easily dodged her, grinning.

"She asked – no, she begged me to bite her. So before you try to scratch me, try asking her." He laughed, landing behind the scantily clad Fiona who, wearing just an oversized T-shirt, had just emerged from the stairs. Fiona rubbed her eyes.

"What's going on?" she murmured, looking solemn.

Marshall wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.

"Morning Fi." He purred, kissing her neck, much to the anger of Cake.

Fiona's eyes lit up. "You stayed!" she gasped, hugging him tightly.

Marshall chuckled. "Well it's not like I could leave with the sun up…not that I would want to." He murmured, kissing her forehead.

Fiona nuzzled his shoulder and whispered "Thanks."

Marshall smiled and pulled her against his body until he suddenly felt her go stiff.

"Fiona?"

"Uhhhh…." Fiona squeaked, slowly turning in his arms to face Cake.

"Hey…Cake…" she said nervously.

"GIIIIIIIRRRRLLL! WHAT THE PLOP WERE YOU THINKING?!"

"Uhhhh….that…I…um….needed somewhere to stay and that Marshall was nice and I really kinda wish I hadn't woken up coz my legs still feel kinda like jelly was….um…what I was thinking…"

"Yeah, yeah you getting it on with the vamp is old news – what the plop were you doing with those scissors! Why did you…why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh…I just wanted the pressure to go way…but I feel fine now! It used to happen as soon as the sun started rising or setting…but I feel a lot better thanks to Marshall…no worries…right?"

"What are you gonna do when…you know…you start showing? And don't deny nything coz I can smell him all over you!"

Marshall and Fiona gave her blank stares.

"What? It's not as if you guys used a condom from what I could tell!"

Marshall smiled. "Cake, upside of being technically dead. I shoot duds. No worries. You think I would make Fiona a mom at seventeen?"

Cake stared.

"That's…convenient…who wants pancakes?!"

Fiona smiled. "Oh! Pancakes! I'm starved!"

*approximately 5 minutes later*

"Careful, their hot." Cake warned.

Fiona snarfed down two stacks of pancakes before sighing contentedly

"Ahhh…ok, I'm better." She murmured.

Marshall laughed and sucked the red from a strawberry.

"So…what are we doing today?" Fiona asked.

"We need to see Gumwad." Marshall muttered, throwing Fiona the pallid strawberry.

Fiona coughed and chewed the strawberry before asking "Why?"

"We need to get my venom out of you before it really starts messing with you."

"YOU'RE VENEMOUS? LIKE A SNAKE? I HATE SNAKES!" Cake hissed, her back arched and her fur fluffed.

Fiona and Marshall stared at the agitated cat.

"It's not like she's going to drop dead. My venom is a side effect of my lineage. It's done to allow my power inside of whoever I bite. It's done so that I can erase the memories and heal anyone I bite…if I choose to keep them alive, that is." He explained.

"Yeah. And it doesn't hurt, Cake. I always have really nice dreams after he bites me." Fiona said, smiling.

"Enough dillydallying. Fiona, go get dressed." Marshall ordered.

The girls stared at him.

"What's 'dillydallying'?" Cake and Fiona asked in unison.

Marshall slapped his forehead. "Showing my age I guess. Just…stop messin' around. I'll need to hide in your backpack since you guys don't have anything I can wear outside. Well? Don't just stand there. Go!" he huffed, falling back onto the air, floating. He yawned.

"If you don't want me to help you dress, and mind you I only undress, get your cute little ass up there before I get snackish." He growled, his eyes closed.

Fiona squeaked and ran up the stairs.

"That's what I thought." He huffed.

*At the Candy Kingdom*

"Hey PG, you in?" Fiona yelled.

"Certainly. How can I be of assistance today to my favorite adventurer?" Prince Gumball asked, bowing.

"Shut the curtains."

"Uh…alright. What is this about?" the prince asked, closing the curtains to his laboratory.

"Ok…don't freak out ok?"

"Alright. I vow to remain calm."

"Marshall is venomous…and he bit me…a lot…at least three or four or five times…and now his venom has me all messed up…so, do you think you could get it out of me before his power infiltrates me and messes me up?"

*Silence*

"**YOU WHHHAAAAAAATTTT?!**" the prince screeched.

Marshall crawled out of Fiona's backpack and reformed. He smiled and waved at the prince.

"'Sup Gumbutt? What's with the face? You heard the girl. We need to get my venom out of her before it starts giving me power over her."

"How could you do this to her? To someone so beautiful and strong and –"

The prince fell back, holding his face. Marshall hissed, making the prince flinch.

"Y-you hit me…" he whispered, holding his injured cheek.

"Marshall! You can be doing stuff like that it's-" yelled Fiona

"SIT." Marshall growled at her.

"What? I'm not going to sit just because you-"

"**Iubeo discumbere. Iure meo, quod daemon imperium**." He snarled.

(Don't forget to use google translate – Latin!)

Fiona's face went blank as she sat down on the floor.

Cake fluffed. "Woah! Fiona, baby! What did you do to her? Sex is one thing but I won't let you control her like some puppet you demon!" Cake hissed, jumping at Marshall.

"**Ego sum a dæmonio liberarem. Audite vocem meam:. Silete a**." he snarled.

Cake froze and her fur relaxed. She stared blankly in front of her in silence.

"What…what did you to them?!"

"It's only temporary on the feline. I could keep it up for a few hours on the girl because my power resonates in my body and my venom is simply a product of it. However, I'm not doing this because I'm cruel or evil like you think, I can see it on your face so don't deny it. I'm doing this because we don't have time to argue. Fiona received three doses of my venom one month ago. She received three more last night." He licked his lips, much to the abhorrence of the prince. "So, what I'm saying is, you need to intervene before I wind up making her mine. If I bind her with my blood, and a few muttered words, I'll be able to influence her and call her to me by tricking her mind into thinking she wants to go to me. I don't want to take her free will away. But if my venom stays inside her I won't have a choice because, as I'm sure Peppermint Maid has informed you, a demon's job is to make a contract. If she is willing to give me what I want then I will want to, in turn, give her what she wants by making a contract. The problem is that my venom makes her desire me. I want her. I want her enough that I would give her small doses of my blood over time to stop her aging. If she were to actually die, she would just turn into a vampire…but…she doesn't want that. She…I won't make her…I don't want to make her…DAMMIT she deserves better ok? So just, fix her! Get me out of her! Give her, her freedom back and give me mine so this…this PAIN will go the hell away!"

Gumball rose up from the floor and dusted off his shoulders.

"I'll need sample to know what I'm isolating from her blood stream. I'll also attempt to construct something that could block the effects of the venom…but for now, I'll be performing a lot of tests on the both of you. I don't like you. That's no secret. I also don't trust you in the least around myself, Fiona, or the candy people. Therefore…if you really want to cure her, you'll have to stay in the cell under my laboratory. Is that tolerable?"

The two stared at each other, the Prince, determined, Marshall, baring his fangs.

"…yes."

"Then please proceed to the chamber." Gumball murmured, pulling a small lever in the wall. A panel in the floor moved, showing a small staircase. Marshall squeezed his eyes shut tightly, hating the desire to rip the Prince's head off. He placed one foot on the first stair and murmured "You'll have to either force me to use my power or drain my blood daily…otherwise my power will build and I'll be able to escape regardless of what you do. Also, I'll eventually wind up influencing Fiona…so whatever she says or does…don't blame her." He then proceeded down the stairs. At the end of the stairs were what seemed to be a long hall of cells. The Prince followed him with a torch in hand. At the end of the hall, was a large door. It swung open when the prince solved a mathematical equation and scanned his hand. Inside the room was a wooden plank, floating against the wall. Marshall walked up to the seemingly wooden plank and put his hand through it. It separated around his hand, avoiding the blow.

"It solidifies for exactly three hours every four hours. If you attempt to sleep on the floor, you will receive an electroshock. It's to keep you in a deprived state so that you will lose your physical and mental fortitude over time. The ceiling is lined with lights that can induce UV rays, similar to that of the sun – causing you certain pain or death of necessary. If at any time you become a threat, I will not hesitate to administer pain to you. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly, Pinkie."

"Please open your mouth."

Marshall opened his mouth, resisting gritting his teeth. The prince placed a vial against both his teeth and sneered as the transparent venom dripped sluggishly from his teeth. He took out a needle and took a blood sample. His blood looked nearly black in the syringe.

The prince walked towards the door and muttered "I'll begin testing immediately. Your ration will be delivered tomorrow evening." Before shutting Marshall in the pitch black cell.

In the darkness, two rabid red eyes glowed.


	2. Chapter 2

"And this will be your room. I ask that you not leave the castle until we are able to separate the toxins of that….creature from your blood." The prince said, gesturing proudly at Fiona's new room.

Fiona looked around at the room. The walls were pink, the floor was a light blue in a swirl pattern. The window had cinnamon stick bars over it. The bed was lavish with a pink fringe, purple lace gossamer flowing down from the bed stand. The headboard was ornate and depicted Fiona slaying a red, snarling dragon made of licorice. Fiona stared at the golden chandelier in the ceiling. It was everything Marshall hated. Bright, blinding colors, unnecessary ornamentation, bars to restrain her movements…guards to keep watch…

"What do you think? I had this room prepared a while back in case you ever needed somewhere to stay. There's a bathroom just down the hall. The floor alone took hours of mixing to get the right texture and color…"

Fiona tuned him out, wondering what Marshall was doing. She couldn't see him staying in a place like the room she was in, even if it was just a plain room. The candy kingdom would always vibrant and Marshall wasn't the kind of person who liked vibrancy.

"Where is Marshall staying?" she asked, ignoring the Prince's annoyed stuttering.

"He's in a room that is specially designed to keep the sun out and everyone as safe as possible to speed along this difficult process…" he muttered vaguely.

"I'll need a sample of your saliva and your blood." The prince suddenly muttered, his jovial tone dropped.

Fiona frowned and watched as the prince pulled out a syringe and a long Q-tip. She sighed and tried not to fidget as he took samples of her spit and blood.

"You should rest now. Dinner will be served at six thirty. Until then, please do not wander beyond the castle, and know that we will try to make your stay as comfortable as possible." He grumbled flatly, walking stiffly from her room.

That night, it took Fiona hours to fall asleep. When she did finally sleep, it was disruptive and left her feeling as if she hadn't slept at all. She finally gave up and sat up in the darkness. She hated how big and fluffy the bed was. She hated that the sheets felt crisp and new and that the comforter was even and flat. She longed for a simple bed that had the feeling of being slept in. She wanted the sheets to be crumpled and the blanket comfortably lumpy and patched up in places. She didn't want the scent of candy all around her. She wanted the scent of sandalwood and musk. She sighed and scooted against the headboard.

"Marshall…what are you doing?" she whispered quietly into the darkness, feeling silly for talking to no one.

"Floating."

Fiona froze at the sound of Marshall's voice.

"M-marshall?" Fiona whispered.

"Uh…yeah? Nice room by the way…beats the hell out of mine."

"Where are you?" Fiona asked, waving her hands in front of her, searching.

"Sorry to disappoint but this is just a projection. You can't touch me like this. But we can at least talk, so there's that."

"That's…freaky…"

"Just an up of being undead, love. Though I gotta admit that it's downsides are rather equal to the upsides."

Fiona squirmed.

"It feels weird. I feel like I'm talking to myself."

"Well…I didn't want to scare you since it's too dark for you to see me…but I could show you my demon eyes. It wouldn't be much, but you could see the glow in the dark."

"Ok."

Fiona waited a moment before seeing two glowing red dots appear. The darkness almost seemed darker with his eyes glowing like they were with the same brightness as the monster from her dreams…

"Were your eyes always so…intense?"

"No. It's because of your blood. Human blood is by far the most…nutritious thing a vampire or demon could drink, but I exist from drinking just the red. Don't worry, they'll dim in a few days."

"Oh. What does you room look like?"

"Ah you know, hot tub, bikini clad women all to myself, cushy bed…"

"Come on, I'm serious. Are you even still in the castle? PG said it was to keep you out of the sun and everyone safe."

"Oh is that what he called it?" Marshall chuckled.

"What?"

"I'm still in the castle, so don't worry so much ok? You'll get wrinkles."

Fiona rolled her eyes.

"That's not…even…possible…" she yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Hey, it's late. I'll visit you tomorrow night. You need some sleep."

"Yeah…" Fiona muttered, yawning again. She snuggled into the blanket, trying to get comfortable. The bed didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore.

She started to drift off, the scent of sandalwood in the air around her, lulling her gently into a restful slumber.

Weeks went on like that. Fiona would go down to PG's lab every morning for tests and injections and pills. Sometimes he analyzed her sleep patterns. He studied her bloods reaction to the venom and vice versa. After tests she would usually sleep, too tired and sore to eat. She would wake up around dinnertime and eat whatever they served. A tray would be brought to her room, filled with sweets and candies and the like. She was fed well and given nice dresses. Peppermint maid did her hair and Cake was sometimes allowed to visit. Fiona hated the room and the food and the dresses. She didn't want to be a princess. She was an adventurer. She would shine her sword and wit every night for Marshall to appear. Some day's he would appear just as dusk settled, and other days, it was nearly midnight before he appeared. She hated that she couldn't touch, but they could talk. She told him about her upbringing and her many adventures. He told her of his own. Sometimes he sang to her until she fell asleep. Sometimes, there were times when his image was faint, as if he didn't have the energy to sustain the projection. She sighed. She had asked everyone she could think of as to how close PG was to getting Marshall's venom from her. Each time they responded that she should ask PG. He always said he was "close" or "near a breakthrough". Sometimes, she wondered if PG was even trying.

Marshall flinched as the Prince pushed the tubes into his arms. His stomach ached and his veins throbbed. His 'ration' was a single strawberry, once a day. He was used to two bowl's full of red, not a measly drop of it. He felt his demonic miasma surge with his hunger. The reinforced metal on his wrists and ankles kept him pinned to the metal slab he was laying on. He had already tried breaking it and quickly realized that it had been reinforced with silver. He couldn't break it.

"Hey HubbaBubba! What is this for again?"

"Your blood rapidly degenerates once separated from your body. I will need a large amount to examine it closely enough and figure out a way to keep it from degenerating as quickly to examine its properties. Your venom however, seems to be alive and apart separately from you. It acts like most cells, it has a purpose…but I can't seem to figure out what purpose it has. It's living. So…I need to pull a large quantity of your blood out to sample it because its own properties will conserve it. The quickest way to get that, it to pull it directly from you. If I'm correct, a vampire cannot die from blood loss, yes?"

Damn…if I lose that much blood…I'll be starving. It'll take days to rebuild my strength…Fiona will know something is up if I don't visit her…if she think's something's up, she won't let this gumgob get my venom out of her…and if my venom stays in her for too long she'll need me to bite her…I'll get addicted and kill her while feeding…

"What about the pain? I'm not immune to that." He growled

"Well…" the prince muttered "then know your brief moment of pain will get me one step closer to ridding Fiona of your toxins." Gumball turned a dial on a small remote and flicked a crooked switch on the side. Marshall watched as the pumps surrounded by glass tubes started sucking his blood into the tubes in his arms. His blood was a very dark red. He felt his body shudder at the sudden loss, trying to force him to either fight back or flee. He hissed a breath between gritted teeth, feeling pain spiral up his arms in an icy stab. The lack of blood could even drive him mad, if he lost enough. He threw his head back, resisting as he felt his bones stretch and flesh crawl. His body was trying to transform. He felt the familiar pressure swell in his chest, straining. He huffed, sweating, trying to keep the pain from his mind. He felt the only words he could manage rushing through his mind, a crescendo of images of Fiona flashing. Fiona when she stood on the severed head of an ogre and shouted to the skies, Fiona laughing so hard milk came out of her nose, Fiona giving him his first Christmas present and blushing, Fiona gently washing his hair, Fiona snuggling into his side, Fiona gasping as he licked her, Fiona eating an apple, Fiona shivering, Fiona crying, Fiona laughing, Fiona, Fiona, Fiona, Fiona…

"Fi…o…na…ungh…stop you id…iot…you'll make me…too…weak…" he breathed, his strength having already left him. He shook, feeling his arms strain. He felt cold…so cold…his head swam, darkness floating on the edges of his vision. He snarled and felt desperation flood his system as the prince made no move toward stopping the contraption from sucking every last drop from his body.

"Hey! Didn't you hear me?! Augh…TURN IT OFF!" he gasped.

"Hmmm…your blood seems to regenerate slower than I anticipated. I thought I would get at least one more liter out of you." Muttered the prince, scribbling on his clipboard. Marshall hissed and felt his inner demon surge, begging for release, whispering that it was strong and would kill those who caused him pain. The grey at the edges of his vision began to impede on his sight. Black dots danced across his vision. He thrashed, feeling his control of the demon slipping…his arms felt strong, strength funneling into them. He felt his heart swell as if it would burst from his chest. He felt his teeth and fingers throb rapidly. His jaw began to ache. He slid his forked tongue along his teeth, feeling them sharpen and lengthen. He clenched his hands into fists, hissing as he felt claws dig into his hands. He heaved, feeling his restraints give slightly. He couldn't break them, but he could bend them. He pulled, hearing the metal groan. He watched with demon eyes, seeing the prince's would gape and eyes widen.

"*Hehehe…silly prince. Thinking you could figure me out. Figure out what makes immortality achievable.*" The demonic Marshall jumped from the metal slab, having bent the restraints enough to escpe. He lunged at the prince, snarling. The prince ran, knocking over several vials and a bubbling beaker to the floor. The prince grabbed a white flashlight, struggling with the stuck switch. "*Your soul will be delicious!*" Marshall roared, slashing at the prince. The prince's flashlight suddenly flickered on, giving the prince encouragement. "*What? Is your nightlight going to save-AUGHH!" the demon snarled, falling to the ground as his skin bubbled from the UV rays.

"It's a portable UV light. Painful isn't it?" The prince taunted as the creature writhed in pain, clawing the floor, trying to escape. Marshall hissed, his demonic features retreating with pain, leaving only his normal form bubbling and sizzling from the prince's torture.

"Poor Marshall. My recent encounter with the Lich made me painfully aware of my own mortality. As your demonic side has already guessed, I'm trying to garner immortality. However, I can't seem to understand what makes you tick. Your heart doesn't beat. Your blood coagulates in your body, but somehow you exist on the color red…somehow your blood keeps you young, some property I'm missing. Your blood devours Fiona's – making her blood become yours. But WHY? Why does it only react that way to human blood…? What must I do to make it compatible with my own DNA…" Finally, the light receded, the batteries dead. Parts of Marshall's skin were black and crisp, smoke rising from many of his wounds.

"I've finished with you for today. Guards!"

He groaned as two banana guards dragged him to his cell, their touch exasperating the already agonizing wounds. He laid there, gasping on the floor, feeling his body jerk with the floor's electric current. His mind wandered, calling out to the only friend he had in this hell hole…

Fiona jerked up in bed, gasping at the darkness. She could have sworn she heard Marshall's voice calling her name…

Fiona…I'm hurt…

"Marshall?"

Shh…I need you to get me out. The prince isn't trying to help us…he's trying to gain immortality…we need to leave…

"But Marshall, I don't even know where you are!" Fiona whispered.

Don't think about it. My venom is still strong in your system. You'll feel it when…AHHH!

"Marshall?!"

I'm fine…hurry. Under the lab. There's a lever that unlocks a false tile. Go down the stairs. I'm in the cell at the end of the tunnel. Go!

Fiona could feel fear interceding into her heart. Marshall's voice was weak, barely a whisper. She tried to open her door…it was locked. "Not a prisoner, huh?" she snorted. She ran over to the window and chewed through the cinnamon bars, spitting out the powdery texture. She pulled herself out of the window and scaled down the side of the castle. She huffed as she landed on the ground, looking around. No guards so far…She felt her left wrist throb slightly. She looked down at it. Marshall said his venom would lead her…she followed her arm the side of a tower. Her arms were throbbing. She looked around. "There's nothing here…no doors…" she muttered, leaning against the wall…only it wasn't a wall. She fell through it! She landed on her ass with an "Oompf!" She rubbed her bottom and picked herself up. It was the lab. "Secret entrance, huh?" she looked around…there were a ton of levers and machines and things in vials. It looked different from the lab she went into. For starters, there was a twisted metal table on the floor and a dark red liquid in several tubes…She felt her fingers twitch and her arm raised towards the wall. "There's nothing there…" she muttered, placing her palm against the cool stone. "I don't-Oh!" a large lever materialized next to her hand. She grabbed it and pulled in down. She heard a sound as if several locks were being opened and gears grinding, before she saw a large tile in the floor move. There were stairs leading down. She tiptoed down the stairs to a small hall full of cages. There were several…things…n the cages. Some had fangs and weird, dark patches of hair. She felt her skin crawl, thoroughly creeped out. She ran to the end of the hall and pulled on the door. It didn't budge.

Fiona?

"Yes! I'm here! The door is locked!"

Panel…on the wall…

Fiona looked at the side of the door. The device had a lot of weird buttons and was asking for a DNA sample. Probably PG's.

"I can't use it! It needs a DNA sample!"

The lab…he was using his own tissue…

"Hang on!" she ran up the stairs and looked around until she saw a lump of hot pink gum on a petri dish. Half of it was blackened and cracked with a note pinned beside it. "Blood reacts to sun. Starting weekly injections tomorrow. So close! The blood is the source!" "Injections…blood?" she looked over to huge tubes of the red liquid. Marshall was right…she didn't want to believe PG would do something like that…she shook her head and ran back down to the lab. The beginnings of tears in her eyes. He would have hurt Marshall to become immortal. She squished the blob against the scanner. The screen flashed INVALID. INVALID. INVALID.

"It's not working!"

Hit it.

Fiona threw her fist into the weird machine. The screen crackled and whirred before it went dark. She wrenched open the door, her hand aching. Marshall was crumpled on the floor, jerking.

"Marshall!"

"Don't. Floor is electrified." He hissed, jerking.

"What do I do?"

"Cut yourself."

"What?"

"The blood. The scent. I'm hurt and it'll help make me get up."

Fiona looked down at her hand and started pulling out pieces of metal and glass. She flinched as the blood began to drip. She felt an icy hand grab her wrist. She looked up.

"Marshall…"

He growled and leaned down, sliding his tongue over the wounds on her hand. He lapped up some of it and sighed roughly.

"Better. We need to go. But first, we have to destroy everything he has…all my blood and yours. Everything."

"Marshall, it'll be sunrise soon."

"Perfect. My blood will burn. Come on." He said, pulling her up the stairs. He was limping.

"Marshall - you're hurt!"

"I'm fine." He huffed, limping up the stairs, dragging her.

Marshall crawled up the last few steps.

"Fiona, the tubes. Break them."

"But-"

"I haven't the strength to do it! Break them!"

Fiona picked up one of the tables and threw it at one of the two tubes. It cracked and dark red liquid poured onto the floor. Marshall was breaking several vials filled with a bright red substance and a couple filled with clear stuff.

She picked up the dripping table and threw it at the other tube of Marshall's blood. It broke easier than the other tube and shards of glass were left swimming in the crimson river. His blood seemed sticky. It clung to the hem of her nightgown and feet.

"Marshall!" She screamed, looking over at him. He limped over to the window and began ripping at the stone around it, making it wider. She looked past him to the horizon.

"Marshall! The sun!"

"I know!"

"You'll burn!"

"Go! The guards will be here soon!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Well then, guess we oughta get the hell out of this joint!" he huffed, throwing one last stone.

He crawled through the hole he made and held his bleeding hand out to Fiona's.

"We're getting out of here." He whispered.

She nodded and grabbed his hand.

"Let's go."

Marshall and Fiona crawled into a small cave, shielding themselves from the sunlight. She would of course, be impervious to sunlight, but she had missed Marshall in their weeks apart – physically anyway.

"Why did we have to go into this cave? There was a bigger one farther back…"

"Yes I know but…ungh…I have a safe-house here. I've got them all over Aaa, just in case my enemies come calling." He huffed, holding his side.

"Marshall…you shouldn't be walking…you don't even have the strength to float…"

"I'm fine, Fiona. Stand back."

Fiona took a few steps backwards.

"Why?"

"Aperite atque præcepta redii"

Fiona crawled through the small door Marshall's words had created. Inside was a small room. It had a small, bare mattress on the ground and a hole in the ground in the corner, which she assumed was the bathroom. She sighed.

"Hey, don't look so down. I'm not done yet." Marshall teased, grabbing her hand and pulling her against his chest.

"revelabit" he muttered.

Fiona gasped as a red light pulsed from the center of the room, growing brighter. She shut her eyes against the light burying her face in Marshall's chest.

She felt his hand softly pat her hair.

"You can look now, princess."

She turned around to see the bed was much larger with three stacked mattresses supported by a frame that looked to be made of bone. There was his familiar nightstand and creep-tacular lamp. The walls were adorned with small skull-scones, each holding a candle with a red, pulsating flame. The room seemed…bigger. And there were now three doors. The hole in the floor, however, was still in the corner.

"Marshall, what's that hole for?"

"That's how we got in."

"Huh? No we came in-" Fiona argued, confused. She peered around Marshall…to see only wall! There was nothing there!

"But I thought we came in…from…there?"

Marshall chuckled.

"The tunnel is just a waypoint. It's like a spider web but with more than one center. I crawl along a thread until I find the center I want. This happens to be one of my favorites, which is why it's more decorated than my previous cave. As a matter of fact, you're the only one to ever enter this one." He kissed the top of her head lightly.

"You're covered in blood and dirt. Go take a shower. I'll get some clothes for you." He murmured, pushing her towards the door farthest from the bed, on the left.

"Ok…are you sure?" she asked, turning around.

She was alone.

"That's…creepy." She muttered and entered the bathroom. It had white walls and a large white Victorian bathtub with black accents. The sink seemed to be a part of the wall itself. It looked like a white marble with very faint black veins running through it. She walked over and turned on the water for the bathtub. His bathrooms never had mirrors, but she was willing to bet she looked awful. She sighed and pulled off the tattered and bloody nightgown. She slipped into the water slowly, unused to the heat but needing to warm up. She slowly sunk into the water, sighing at the feel. She could feel her toes again. The run to his cave to beat the sun had put them through several puddles, many of which were very cold due to the season. It was a time of year where it was cold enough to make being outside enormously uncomfortable but warm enough to melt the snow and produce cold rain profusely. She sighed as she felt her toes tingle, the burning water warming her feet. She dunked under the water and rose with a gasp, her cheeks flushed from the heat. She rubbed water out of her eyes and looked around. There was a small shelf that had a bottle of shampoo, an odd smelling bar of black soap, a vial of something green and bubbling, and a blue (and seemingly new) razor. She stared at the razor, curious. It had obviously never been used before. Was he expecting to bring her here, or was it just his vampire skills at work? She looked over the side of the tub to wipe water out of her eyes with the tattered gown, only to find a wash towel. She looked up in confusion, to see two crimson towels stacked on top of each other on the lid of the toilet. She smiled. Vampire skills indeed.

She walked from the bathroom feeling much better now that she wasn't covered in dirt and blood. She yawned and stretched, sitting on his bed. Sometime between fetching her towels he had refurbished the bed with a red sheet and black comforter. The pillows were white. She sighed and began drying her hair. There was a brush on the nightstand, which allowed her to brush her unruly hair. After that tedious process, she dried her body and opened the door closest to the bed. It was a closet. The only thing in it was a single light blue nightie. She rolled her eyes before slipping it on over her head. It flowed onto her like water. She wondered if it was made of silk. It had a lace fringe and barely touched her mid-thigh. She decided to open the last door, more out of curiosity than anything. Inside was a small kitchen. The table was a part of the floor, seemingly carved from it. The fridge, though modern in appearance, also seemed to be carved from the stone. She looked in the fridge. There were several cans of a blood orange juice, three strawberries (though they were already drained of their color) two bottles of red wine and…a note?

The note was scribbled quickly and barely legible.

It read:

Food in cupboard above sink, help yourself.

-M

Fiona rolled her eyes and rummaged through the cupboard above the sink. In the cupboard, there was some of the weird bread he seemed to keep as a staple, a jar of red jam, and a wine glass. She sighed and grabbed the jam and odd bread. After setting the two articles on the counter, she hesitated but also brought down the wine glass. She put some of the jam (which she couldn't figure out the flavor of, only that it was sweet) on two slices of the bread and retrieved the wine bottle from the fridge. She sat at the table and munched her snack while sipping the wine. The wine was floral and left and interesting aftertaste. It seemed to taste different after every sip. She sighed and laid her warmed cheek against the cooled table. She had just begun to drift off when she felt a cool kiss on her neck.

"Sorry it took so long." He whispered, grazing his teeth along the ridge of her ear.

She smiled and raised up, looking at him. His hair was wet and he was wearing ripped up jeans. They seemed baggy on him, oversized.

"I had to borrow some clothes from the neighbors." He muttered and smirked.

"Did you like the wine?"

"Yeah…it just tasted funny. What was it suppose to be?"

"Succubus blood."

She stared at him, waiting for the punch line.

"I don't get it."

"No joke love. In the Nightosphere succubus produce berries filled with their own blood. It's prized in the demon realms because it revitalizes the body and heals any wounds. Your hand doesn't hurt anymore does it?"

She looked down at her hand. Sure enough, all that remained was smooth, though flushed, skin.

"Oh."

"It also has the benefit of getting you drunk if you drink enough." He joked.

"Are you tired?"

"A little."

"Come on, I missed sleeping next to you." He purred, picking her up from the chair.

"Ah! Marshall! Put me down!" Fiona squeaked.

Marshall laughed

"What? I can't carry my princess?"

She snorted as Marshall laid her on the bed.

"I've no wish to be a princess."

"Hmm…good point. You're too fierce to be a princess, too capable. So I guess that makes you an adventuress Queen."

Fiona rolled her eyes and snuggled under the covers.

"Whatever."

Marshall chuckled and pulled her against him, lulling her to sleep with a quiet son.

Marshall opened his demon eyes, piercing the darkness. He looked at Fiona's sleeping form, her heart beat slow and rhythmic in her deep sleep. He slithered in the form of a black snake from Fiona's side. He hissed as he felt the hunger mount in his body. Red wouldn't be enough. If he wanted to stay by Fiona's side, he would have to kill something to keep his demon side from overwhelming him and making him take Fiona against her will. He slithered from their den and into the night. It was a new moon. The predator's moon. It would be much too dark for a hunter and for any prey. Marshall reformed into a large wolf, his fangs surpassing his jaw. His eye's glowed a rabid red. His nails lengthened into great black claws, like onyx rock. He snarled in the night, feeling his demon thrash inside, begging for a soul to satiate its hunger. He sniffed the wind, tasting all the creatures of the night and the surrounding prey. He twitched his ear, scenting another of his kind. A demon in a different form. He raced through the woods, his claws leaving jagged shadows in his wake. The demon was weaker than he was and not nearly as desperate. He pounded silently through the woods. A shadow with a tangible form, leaving no trace. He felt his muscles burn with the exertion and his last vestiges of power. He sniffed, smelling the musky scent of a herd of deer. He slunk down on his belly, peering through the bushes at the herd. The buck was strong but young. Inexperienced. He growled gently, testing the deer's alertness. None moved. Some looked to the buck, but seeing no reaction to the noise, continued to graze. He chuckled quietly and felt his miasma roam out beyond him, testing the deer's souls. The purest was a small fawn's. It still had its white spots. He huffed, hating the need growing, hating the side of him that desired to taste red. He crept from the darkness…only to suddenly see the buck's head perk up, alarm flashing from its body with a raised white tail. The herd stampeded towards him, the fawn hidden in their ranks. They jumped over him, pounding through the forest.

_NO!_ He snarled, trying to grasp an elderly straggler's haunch in his teeth. His teeth nicked it's leg, causing only a flesh wound, hardly vital.

_DAMMIT_ he howled, looking to the other side of the forest. He would settle for the soul of what caused him to lose his prey. He threw his miasma at the creature, feeling its fear rise. It was the demon he had sensed earlier in the form of a mountain lion. He pounded from the bushes. Demons had no soul, but they could still feel pain. He jumped through the darkness, over a log, and landed behind the inferior creature. The grey colored cat turned, its fur prickling along it's back with fear.

_Prey stealer! _Marshall snarled, baring his fangs.

_Y-your prey? I didn't know! I'm sorry great king I-_

_SILENCE! You will pay for your insolence! _He roared, lunging at the weaker creature.

_No Dark Lord please! I've a family to feed! _Squeaked the creature, dodging his lunge.

_I care naught! _He snarled, his teeth meeting the smaller creature's haunch. It thrashed in pain, writhing, trying to escape.

He thrashed the squealing creature against the trees and ground, feeling its corporeal form fade. He threw snarled, tearing into its legs. It kicked, hissing, before its form faded into nothing, leaving the smell of sulfur and a blackened scorch mark on the ground. Marshall huffed, his anger still seething. He sniffed, determined to claim the soul of more than just one on this night. He raced through the woods, following the fearful scent of the deer. He found them, still fleeing. He ran in front of them, cutting the creatures off. The herd turned sharply, avoiding him. He snarled, morphing into a large bat and taking to the skies. He flew over the herd, searching for the pure soul. He found it, hidden between two does. He descended, scooping the small life into his claws. It thrashed, fear's sweet scent funneling off it in waves. It shook in his grasp, knowing the end was near. He opened his mouth, breathing in the small creature's soul. The demon in him rejoiced as the new soul darkened with death. He shifted into his normal form, bat wings from his back keeping him aloft. He sank his teeth into the fearful animal's neck and sucked at the hot red inside it's body. He felt his heart flutter with the creature's until it stuttered, the fleeing soul fluttering in his mouth, showing him images of its short life, chasing butterflies and chewing the sweet grass, sleeping by mother's warm flank and vowing to grow strong like father. He shuddered, sadness pervading his body at taking the small life, hating himself and the wretched need. He groaned, crunching down on the fluttering soul, feeling it dissipate on his tongue as new strength flowed into his body and the small body grow cold under his touch. He pulled his teeth from the small creature's throat and slunk to the ground, falling to his knees with the scent of the herd fading, having run in their terror. The mother's sadness was faint but remaining like a sickness. It spread over him, making his stomach churn. He watched as redness dripped from his stained mouth onto the fur of the silent creature. The red smeared into the white dots, tainting even that small vestige of remaining innocence. He gasped, rocking back and forth, hating the delicious taste, hating rapture of that little soul as he consumed it, hating his nature and father that made him what he was. He shuddered, hating the demon inside that howled for souls to keep it tamped down, he even hated Fiona for being so trusting in him and for existing as a ray of light in his endless night, for giving him hope for a better future. He hated that she gave him hope that he could be something other than a monster. He gasped, hating the sobs as they built inside him. He watched as dark tears dripped onto the now cold animal, its fur absorbing the black droplets. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" he sobbed into the darkness, grasping the frail, lifeless body in his arms.

Fiona awoke alone. She looked around. His clothes from last night were on the floor. Dirt was caked onto his pant and shirtsleeves. She yawned, stretching.

"Marshall?" she called out, curious.

"Bathroom! Breakfast's in the kitchen!" A muffled reply emerged from behind the dark blue bathroom door. Fiona rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen, shivering at the cool touch of the wood floor against her bare feet. There was a white bakery bag on the table. She opened it to find three sugared donuts and two red, pulsating doughy balls of something. She pulled one of the pastries from the bag and began chomping away. Beside the bag were two coffee cups. One was full of a bubbling red liquid, while the other contained hot chocolate with three small white marshmallows floating in the swirling liquid. Fiona smiled and took a sip, sitting on the chilled chair. She had just finished her second donut when Marshall floated into the kitchen in nothing but a towel. He kissed her cheek and pulled out one of the weird red pastries. He bit into it, making the donut squeak, and drained the red. All that remained was a shriveled, clear husk. Fiona sipped her cocoa and stared as Marshall drained the second pulsating pastry and lapped at the bubbling scarlet substance in his cup. She finished her breakfast and cocoa and pursed her lips, wondering.

"What happened to your clothes last night?"

"I had to bury something."

"Oh. What did you have to bury?"

"A deer. A baby deer." Marshall muttered uncomfortably, not meeting her eyes.

"What happened to it?"

"It was killed by a demon."

"Oh…did you find the demon?"

"I banished a demon back to the Nightosphere."

"Ok…are you ok? You seem like you're doing a lot better physically…but…also not ok."

Marshall shrugged and finished his drink.

"How are you feeling?" He deflected, studying her face.

"I'm ok. In fact, I feel great." Fiona murmured, walking around the table to Marshall, stopping in front of him.

"Oh is that so?" Marshall murmured, smiling.

"Yes." Fiona whispered, sliding her hands down his damp chest.

He purred and pulled her hands from him, kissing them. His touch was warmer than usual due to his recent wash. Fiona smiled and kissed his forehead. He sighed and rose up, dropping her hands to slide his up her arms and shoulders to her neck. She sighed, feeling his fingers knead at her neck and shoulders, massaging. She let her eyes close to the relaxing movements and felt his lips gently press against the crown of her head.

"You are my light, my star, my reason to keep traveling in this world of darkness." He whispered, sliding his hands from the back of her neck to her lower back, still massaging, pulling her against him. She sighed, happy.

"Fiona."

"Mmmhmm?"

"You're floating."

"Floating in happiness."

"No, seriously, your floating."

She opened her eyes…and realized Marshall was right – they were nearly touching the celing!

"How do I get down?!" She asked, clinging to him, when she suddenly felt herself drop. Marshall grabbed her and held her close, gently floating the two of them back to the ground. She stepped back from him, curling her toes against the floor.

"What was that?"

"Probably a side effect."

"Of what?"

"Of my venom being inside you still."

"What else is going to happen?"

"I don't know. I've never continuously fed from a human before. But, I'll be here to make sure you don't float away." He chuckled.

"What if I float when you're not there? Or what if I float really high and then drop?" she asked, clinging to him.

"Hey – I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He promised, kissing her gently.

"Are you sure you can keep me from floating away?"

"Yes. I've got you securely chained to my heart. Don't think I'm going to let my prize just drift away." He laughed.

Fiona blushed, burying her face into his chest.

Marshall hugged her gently, fearful.

"I'll always protect you." _Even from myself_.

"Hey, Marshall?"

"Mhm?"

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About causing you pain."

"How do you think you're causing me pain?"

"I don't know…but it feels like your kind of sad, even though you're smiling, right here." Fiona murmured, gesturing to his heart.

He stared at her, fear skittering down his spine.

He plastered on a crooked smile and nuzzled her cheek.

"I'm happy with you." He murmured, kissing her shoulder.

"Now then, Cake is going to attempt to hunt us down, but we've got the entirety of the candy kingdom after us. So…I'm thinking we do this as sneaky as possible. Do you want to write a note to her? I can get an owl friend of mine to carry letters for us. I know how close the two of you are, but make sure not to say where we are or how we got here. It'll rain tonight and it should wash away our smell so that the candy hounds won't track us here, not that they could enter if they did, and I would rather Gumball realize his craziness without our assistance until he's willing to admit the error of his ways."

Fiona nodded shifted from foot to foot.

"What is it?"

"My backpack. It's still at the Candy Kingdom with my hat and clothes…"

Marshall smiled. "Then I'll get it back to you."

"Really?!" Fiona squealed, her eyes shining. Marshall smiled.

"Really." _I would do anything to keep you smiling._

.


	3. Chapter 3

That dawn Marshall once again crept from Fiona' side. He went into the kitchen and pulled out a jar of Noxious Fumes, Nightshade, and Summoning powder. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. If he kept up these odd excursions, his sleeping schedule would be very out of whack. He pulled a note from his pocket to make sure he didn't forget anything. It was just three simple tasks, but it would be far from easy to accomplish all of them. He groaned and crushed the Nightshade in a dark brown bowl crafted from burial soil, sprinkled in the summoning powder, added a drop of Fiona's (willingly) taken blood she had allowed him to procure during lunch, and blew the purple and black fumes onto the mixture. He shut the jars and placed them back on his hidden shelf, grumbling that it was outrageous for a vampire King to be up at such an hour. He crushed the mixture with a pestle and cut his arm with a silver dagger, causing his usually congealed blood to drip out quickly from the wound. He hissed as he felt the cut burn, his body working against the silver, and losing. He sprinkled the mixture into the wound and gasped as he felt his heart stutter and pound, driving the mixture through to his heart. He slowly stumbled over to the wall and, upon opening a small passage, crawled into the soil, burying himself. He whispered "Candy Kingdom" and felt the horrible separation of himself from his body. It was akin to peeling off all of your skin at once. He opened his eyes and looked down at his barely corporeal form. His body was buried safely under the soil, his projection free to roam about. (The difference between this projection and the one he used to visit Fiona in the castle are different thanks to the mixture he placed into his body – he is able to travel and touch things without being seen where as his spiritual projection can be seen but not felt and cannot grasp anything tangible.) He had transmuted to the entrance of the Candy Kingdom. He crawled over the wall and into the Kingdom's dominion. He strolled silently through the town, no more visible than a ghost was. He entered the Castle and climbed the steps to Fiona's previous dwellings snorting at the scents the guards and the Gumwad in his craziness had left. He stopped at door to her room, waiting. When his expected visitor didn't appear, he whispered in the oral demon language, "Peppermint Maid, your assistance has been requested by your King. Do you deny me?" He felt the presence of a dark soul stirring and looked to see Peppermint Maid crawling up to him on her knees, holding out Fiona's backpack.

"No, my liege, never would I deny you. I was simply checking that all was well. The Prince in his fury didn't think it possible that your chosen had left without her belongings. I kept them safe, Master." She cowered, shaking, knowing what the fury of the Vampire King would bring.

"You've served well, Peppermint Maid. I reward you with a three sigils and one contract on the condition that you do not attempt to use the implements I give you to cause mayhem concerning my kingdom. Although – I would like you to hold onto this for a while longer." The unseen Marshall pulled Fiona's sword from her pack and handed it to Peppermint Maid, along with three dark rings and a small fiery black ball that burned with a dark blue light.

"Oh thank you my liege! What will you have me do with the sword though?"

"Deliver it to the cat, Cake. Tell her Fiona and I are safe and that she misses Cake and that on the next predator's moon she will receive confirmation of the message you have delivered. That is all."

"Of course." The gleeful maid promised, returning to her room.

"Oh and Peppermint Maid,"

"Yes, my liege?"

"If you sent word by way of mirror that you've completed this task, there's another contract in it for you."

The maid's eyes grew wide, burning with dark desires and greed.

"Of course, your illustriousness."

Marshall watched the maid return to her sanctuary of darkness and hissed, feeling dawn's light approach. He grasped Fiona's bag tightly to his chest and stood in front of the castle's many windows. He held his arm out, letting the first dawn's rays touch it. He snarled at the pain and felt himself being pulled and tossed until he huffed, opening his eyes to a comforting darkness. He shuddered, feeling his arm sizzle from the sun, the last traces of his spell having burned away. He rose slowly from the grave soil, pretending not to feel as bones rasped dryly against his flesh. He coughed and emerged from his catacombs to his kitchen, Fiona's recovered bag grasped tightly against his chest. He trudged to the bathroom, his arm aching and power feeling low.

"I really hate that spell." He coughed.

Just as dusk settled, Marshall was awoken by Fiona's squeals of happiness. He groaned, dragging his tired eyes open.

"Marshall! You got my bag back!"

He smiled and nodded into the pillow.

"Glad you're happy." He murmured, still exhausted.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Fiona squeaked, pecking his face with kisses.

He smiled and nuzzled her cheek, happy to cause her such joy.

"Let me sleep a bit longer though, love."

"Ok. Sleep well." She whispered, kissing his cheek and bounding off the bed. He yawned and let sleep drag him under, back into the dark abyss.

He opened his eyes to a pounding in his chest. He felt like his heart had been lit on fire. He gasped, clawing at his chest and the pain.

"Does it hurt?" a voice echoed in the darkness.

Marshall hissed, baring his fangs.36

"What? Are you going to kill yoursssssself?"

"Why are you out of your cage?" snarled Marshall.

"Becausssssse you let me out. Unintentionally, of courssssssse."

"Then I'll put you back." Marshall snarled.

"You can't. It'ssssss almosssssst time for yen. With a female so close by, you won't be able to represssss me from taking her."

"I won't let you hurt her!" Marshall yelled.

A cruel, gravelly laugh emerged from the darkness.

"You won't be there to sssssstop me."

Marshall turned and twisted in the darkness, searching.

"You won't hurt her!"

Marshall shivered, fear tingling up his spine.

If the demon took control he wouldn't be able to save Fiona…he would be too deep in the monster's mind to care.

Marshall jerked awake, a cold sweat clinging to his pallid skin. He wiped his brow and felt a small disturbance in the air. He rummaged through his bone nightstand and pulled out a small mirror. Peppermint Maid's face could be seen in it.

"It's delivered." She whispered.

Marshall nodded and summoned another black ball, burning with a dark blue flame. He passed it through the mirror, much to the delight of the dark Maid.

"Thank you my liege."

Marshall nodded and waved his hand over the mirror, dispelling the image.

He flopped back on the bed, breathing deeply. He rubbed his face and sniffed, scenting Fiona nearby.

"Fiona?"

"Yeah?"

"You ok?"

"I'm in the kitchen. When did you get all this food?!"

Marshall smiled, rising off the bed in his blue and white plaid boxers and floated towards the kitchen.

"Last night. I figured while I was out I might as well do better with feeding you."

He floated into the kitchen with a yawn, seeing Fiona devouring a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. He smiled.

"Hungry?"

Instead of responding, Fiona continued chowing down. He floated slowly into the chair opposite her, resting his head on the back of it.

"Are you still tired?"

"A little."

"Why are you so tired?"

"It's almost yen. Things are going to get very interesting around here, very soon."

"What do you mean?"

Marshall rubbed his face, struggling to wake up.

"A yen happens once a demon year (which is 3 human years or 1095 days per demon year). It's one of the safest times in the surface world to all underworld beings. We all collectively go into a phase of extreme sexual need if there is a being of the opposite sex around. It's the one time of year that no matter the species of creature or demon, we become viable. We can reproduce if we meet with a creature that is of the same species."

"Ok…but I'm not a vampire or a demon, so I'm ok. I won't get pregnant…right?"

"Right. In order for you to become a vampire, you would have to consume my blood and die, shedding your human life and mortality. No you couldn't bare my young, even with my venom in you, but I won't exactly be in control of myself. I could hurt you."

"Pfft. You think I can't fight you off?"

Marshall rolled his eyes.

"What you see now is a massively toned down version of what I am. This isn't my true form – it's a transformation just like my bat form."

"Then what do you normally look like?"

"Scary."

"Scary how? Like dragon or man-eating tentacle monster? 'Cause I killed stuff like that before."

"No. Like…the worst monster you could ever imagine."

Marshall scented an undercurrent of fear from Fiona. He snapped his eyes open and looked at her. She looked pale.

"Fiona?"

"Like…like a demon in your form?"

"Sort of, yeah. Fiona are you ok?"

"Yeah…'M fine."

"You don't look like you're feeling fine."

"Yeah…I should lie down…" Fiona mumbled, leaving the majority of her food sitting on her plate. She shuffled to the bedroom and snuggled under the covers, remembering cold white hands grasping her, and rabid red eyes in a face full malice with mouth of glistening, dripping fangs.

.The next morning Fiona awoke and stretched, wincing at her stiff muscles. She had curled into a ball in the night. She combed back her tangled hair and jumped out of the bed, kicking the entangled sheets from her legs. Since it was day, she expected Marshall to be in a deep slumber, but he wasn't in the bed. She knocked on the bathroom door.

"Marshall?"

No response. She opened the door and peaked around the bathroom. He wasn't there.

She wandered into the kitchen, only to find it empty as well.

"Marshall? Where are you?" she called out, waiting. When no response met her ears, she quietly fixed a simple breakfast of toast and jam. She fiddled with her backpack, pouring out its contents and organizing them.

After organizing them she realized her sword was missing. She frowned. Prince Gumball had given her that sword. She took it into battle. It was her treasure, her weapon. She sighed, wondering if Gumball had taken it…or Marshall. She stood up, knowing, and hating, that she was alone. She felt like the silence would choke her.

"Marshall!" she screamed, panic rising in her. It was now a deep black night and Marshall hadn't returned. She ran through the house, searching in a desperate way, hoping, praying, he would suddenly turn up wither sword, apologizing for being so late…

She stopped in the kitchen, her chest heaving, her face feeling hot. She knew she was going to cry soon from her despair, anger, and loneliness.

"M-Marshall!" she called out hoarsely, feeling a sob building in her chest.

She bit her tongue, knowing the momentary pain wouldn't be enough to hold back the tears building in her eyes.

She backed up slowly, sliding down the wall to the floor of the kitchen.

"I don't want to be alone…" she whispered, tears dripping onto her knees. She shook, hating her own weakness.

She suddenly felt a cool hand caress the side of her neck.

"There, there. You don't want to be all alone do you?" A soothing male voice cooed in her ear.

She looked up, not understanding that no one was there…was she going crazy?

"Well, do you want to be alone or not?" snapped the voice.

"N-no…" she stuttered, staring into the corners of the kitchen, searching. Where was the voice coming from?

"That's good. Humans are pack creatures you know. Who is it you most desire to be with right now?" cooed the voice, its tone dripped like honey.

"M-Marshall…"

"Lovely boy…he's in a bit of a tough spot right now you know."

"You know where he is?"

"N-no. Do you?"

"Hmmm…I'm with him right now. He's put a charm on you so you can't hear his screams."

Fiona jumped up, alarm singing in the pounding of her heart.

"What did you do to him?! Tell me now!"

"Oooh but I haven't done anything to him. I haven't touched him. He's locked himself up, you see. Right now he's inflicting wounds and pain on himself, trying to make sure he won't hurt you."

"Why would he do that? Where is he?! Tell me!" she demanded, her hands curling into fists.

"Fighter girl. You're strong. Do you think you could handle seeing him unhidden? Right now, he's losing his carefully crafted façade as his yen overwhelms his mind. He would do anything for you, you know. Right now, he's willing to kill himself to keep you safe. He's hoping you'll hate him and leave here, eventually believing him dead, despite the fact that he would be alone in the world again, lost to the darkness."

"I don't care what he looks like or whatever! Take me to him!" she yelled, glaring all around her, her fists tightening enough that she felt her nails dig into her palms. She heard an amused chuckle.

"You think that now. But just last night you were whimpering at the mere mention of his true form. Could you really handle his cold, pallid hands on you? His blackened claws digging into your flesh? Could you look into his ravenous red eyes set in a face snarling to possess you? Will you dare face his true nature, a nature of bloodlust and savagery and instinct? Are you willing to expose yourself and shatter the cute little façade you've allowed him to build for you?"

Fiona took a deep breath, her mouth was dry. She ran her tongue over her parched lips, remembering her dream, seeing that horrifying representation of Marshall's inner demon…

"Tch! I think not. After all, who would dare love a monster? You prefer his sweet, gentle side. His true nature scares you just as it has scared your kind for millennia! Face it, girl. You fear him. You don't really love him – you just love that you can take advantage of him!"

"That's not it! Marshall is kind at his center…he's just…conflicted."

"HA! Conflicted? Pfft. You're grasping at straws. Face it! You're weak and afraid! You fear him! You love him out of that fear and use him for the rush he gives you!"

"NO! That's not it!" Fiona wailed, her mind searching for the reasons she loved him…

"I love Marshall because he's strong and independent. He's fun to be with and makes me smile. He likes me and doesn't try to change me even though most prince's want me to be girl or whatever. He….gets me and I don't care if he looks like a bat or a shadow or a demon! He's still Marshall and he needs me…especially like now when he's hurting because I'm the only one he's willing to show his pain to…so you take me to him! I have to help him!"

Fiona heard a dark laugh and watched as a the wall she was leaning against started to bleed a black substance. She squeaked and jumped back staring at the wall. She watched, as a symbol appeared on the wall in a dark red, dripping stain. It looked like a jagged M.

"If you're willing to sssssacrifice, your wish will be attained." The voice hissed.

"Let blood meet blood and the path will be revealed…" It whispered, fading.

Fiona bit her lip and rummaged through the silverware drawer, pulling out a jagged steak knife. She placed the cold metal against her palm, feeling the cold sink into her hand, hesitating.

She heard an impatient hiss issue somewhere on her left.

"Well? Will you help him or not?"

"I don't know if I can. Shouldn't I call a doctor? You said he was-"

A low hiss silenced her.

"Break the seal, girl!"

"But-"

"DO IT!" snarled the voice.

Fiona bit her lip and shoved the knife down and across her hand quickly, gasping as pain spiked through to her fingers, and slapped it against the ragged M on the wall. She felt herself lift, her feet leaving the ground. Her bleeding hand immediately went icy cold. She felt her body going cold, her numb fingers letting the bloodied knife slip from her hand. She gasped, in shock as a black oval opened under her hand, a snarl echoing from it – unmistakably Marshall. She dove into the darkness; fear for Marshall her only thought.

Fiona gasped, jerking off a frigid floor. She looked to her hand, but there wasn't a mark. She winced; her head was throbbing. She looked around. Beside her was a torch, burning with a dark blue flame. She rose up slowly, carefully, examining her surroundings. From what she could tell, she was in a room. It didn't have a window or any sort of furniture, or even a door, from what she could tell. She ran her hand along the wall until she felt her hand pass through it. The room had a door, and it was open…why didn't she see that before? She padded out into a dark hallway. She took a step forward and jumped slightly as torches, similar to the one she held, lit up along the sides of the hall, giving an eerie illumination. She shuddered, listening.

A quiet groan echoed down the hall.

She nodded, trying to build her courage. She padded down the hall, her footsteps echoing. She finally came to a door. It looked like it was…breathing…

"M-Marshall…?"

A groan met her ears.

"F…Fiona? Unnnnhh…don't…"

"I'm coming in!" she pushed the door, jumping as a sharp wind blew her torch out. She opened her eyes slowly, her heart resounding in her fear. The room was similar to the one she had woken up in. It had no windows and no ornamentation, save for a pale figure, seemingly suspended in the air…she stepped into the room and heard the door behind her slam shut. She jumped and looked back, alarmed. The door was gone. The figure coughed.

"Shouldn't…have come…"

"I…I had to." She whispered, fearful.

"I can smell it…augh…" he groaned writhing. She heard a sound, similar to chains clinking, with his movement.

"You're afraid…," he groaned, pulling at his arm restraints.

She walked towards him, unsure of each step.

"I was worried about you…"

He hissed, making her freeze in her stance.

"You should have stayed back…I can't stop it…with you this close…"

She examined his face. Even contorted, she could tell he wasn't the Marshall she feared.

"Stop what?" she whispered, taking a step forward.

"Stop!" he roared, shaking. She looked to his wrists. The restraints looked like an odd dark purple smoke around his wrists and ankles, and there was an odd script written in a darker shade on the cuffs that she couldn't make out. However, the sight of Marshall's dark blood, running down his arms and dripping off his shoes to a puddle below him, was something she could see far too well.

"Marshall, you're bleeding…a lot…"

He groaned, bucking his hips against the air and hissing. Blood dripped from his arms and down his sides, having run from his wrists.

"Are the restraints hurting you?" Fiona asked, worry building inside her.

"Please…leave…before it closes…"

"The door already closed…"

"Illusion…augh! Go….please…don't want…to…hurt you…" he groaned, his shackled clinking lightly.

"Marshall…"

He jerked and hissed as blood began to drip from his body more profusely. The room smelled of his blood, a sweet and spicy scent.

"Marshall! Are you ok?!"

"Fiona….Fi, baby, you gotta leave, ok? Go. GO! Get out of here! Please…"

"I'm not going to leave you so you can sit here and suffer." She mumbled, stepping forward. Hazy bars blocked her path. He was in a cage. Something made of whatever his restraints were.

She pushed against the bars, feeling them give way slightly under her hand.

"NO! D-don't!"

She felt the bars solidify under her hand, pushing her back.

"Don't you hurt? Marshall…"

"Stop saying that…"

"What? The truth? Marshall – let me in! At least to look at your wounds? Let me help you…please. I love you, Marshall. So don't sit there and pretend you don't want me to help you! I don't care if you're the strongest person in Aaa you shouldn't have to be alone all the time! Especially through this! Stop torturing yourself and Let. Me. IN!" She yelled, shoving against the bars. The bars became like a mist under her fingers and she stepped through, determined to help him.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry Fiona…I'm sorry…Oh Glob…I'm so sorry…" He moaned, shutting his eyes tightly, his bound hands curling into fists.

"Marshall…what are you sorry for?" she whispered, stepping towards him, her shoes splashing gently in the growing puddle of his blood. She watched as Marshall suddenly went ridged and then limp.

She wanted to call out to him…but some long ago buried instinct warned her to remain silent and still. He suddenly laughed darkly and cracked his neck. He curled his hands into claws, his fingers popping.

"He finally gave out. Took long enough." He muttered. He sniffed and smiled. His teeth glistened in the darkness.

"Here little bunny…come out and play." He whispered, laughing at his own joke. He looked at the restraints and broke through them easily. They faded away with a gentle hiss. He dropped and landed in a crouch, balancing on his toes and hands. He stood up slowly, red eyes piercing the darkness. He sniffed loudly, feral.

"Scared little bunny…" he whispered, walking towards her confidently.

Fiona felt her heart pound. She wanted to run, but her feet felt like they had grown roots – she couldn't make herself move! She let her eyes drop, staring at her shoes. She heard him approach, his sneakers splashing in his own blood.

He stood in front of her, her clothing wet and dripping. He dragged a black, bloodied claw over her jaw, propping her face up by her chin with his finger. Fiona shut her eyes.

"Little white bunny, come out and play, the sky is full of stars and the foxes have gone away… Beware little bunny, playing in the field, there's a wolf watching you…and he's moving in for the kill." He crooned, his tongue sliding up her cheek.

"What's wrong, Fiona? Don't you love me? You said you didn't care what form I took…were you bluffing? Huh little bunny? Afraid to look me in the eye?" he laughed.

Fiona slowly let her eyes open and rise to look into his. His eyes looked just like she remembered from her dream. A burning red, set in dark pits. His face was a ghastly shade of white, making his eyes all the more dark and bright. His teeth were longer, his forked tongue rough as it rubbed against her cheek. He smiled, his eyes closing to half-mast. It only made him look more frightening. He was at his most dangerous when he appeared the most docile.

"Are you afraid of me?" he crooned, his nails sliding down her arms, ripping the sleeves.

"No." she breathed, her heart pounding.

He chuckled and leaned down, his cold lips brushing her ear.

"Liar." He whispered, his hands dropping to her waist, edging up the familiar blue shirt.

He slid his hands to the rim of her skirt, barely dragging his claws under the brim, against her skin.

"I can smell it on you." He snarled, nostrils flaring, ripping her skirt from her, the zipper splitting. It dropped down her legs, landing in the puddle of his blood.

She shivered, her breath whooshing out of her quietly.

He lapped at her neck, nibbling. His teeth nearly nicking her. He pushed her by her hips, making her take a step back so that she was against the cage.

Fiona gasped, feeling the cold bars against her thighs. He sniffed her neck and whimpered very quietly, pushing his body against hers. She could feel him, pressing against her leg. She swallowed, her hands limp at her side. She let Marshall sniff and lap at her neck, his tongue roughly brushing against her flesh like a cat's. She shuddered, his cold hands riding up her sides giving her goose bumps. Marshall growled and bit at her shoulder, catching the material of her shirt in his teeth. He pulled back sharply, growling, ripping it off her. She gasped, her hands curling into fists. Her head felt cloudy, like it was full of cotton balls, making it difficult to think. She could feel herself throbbing and wet. She bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly.

Marshall slid his hands over her bra-covered breasts, silently cut her straps, and dragged his claws down her sides, slicing through her bra, causing it to fall between their compressed bodies. He growled loudly and stepped back ripping off his own shirt with his claws, leaving shallow wounds that quickly healed, leaving only small trails of his blood on his chest. He kicked her tattered bra away and rubbed himself against her, moaning, as if he was trying to cover himself in her scent.

"Soft…" he groaned, his nails digging into the material of her panties to her skin. She flinched, feeling his sharpened nails press against her flesh uncomfortably. She raised her hands to cover his and pull them away, only to have his hands close tightly around her wrists, forcing them against the cold cage. He pressed them roughly against the bars and growled, his lips pulling back from his teeth, his burning eyes staring into hers. A warning. She nodded once, slightly, afraid to speak. He dropped her hands, returning his own to her waist, sliding them to the back of her. She expected her hands to drop, but realized she couldn't move them…the cage had formed shackles around her wrists! She squeaked and looked at the demon Marshall as he rubbed his face against her chest. He slid his claws gently down her back, making her gasp at the sensation, pleasure trickling down her spine. She shuddered, her knees weak. Marshall groaned and growled, rubbing himself against her, his hardened flesh digging into her thigh. He purred loudly, the timbre vibrating in his chest. He licked her shoulder, leaving a cooled trail of venom and saliva; he nipped her collarbone and cupped her mounds in his hands – mindful of his claws. He kneaded them softly, groaning, rubbing his clothed self against her leg. He slid his tongue around each nipple, squeezing it slightly. Fiona breathed a quiet moan, biting her lip, pressing her flushed cheek against the cold bars of the cell. Marshall's purring increased as he licked down her stomach. The cooling trails he left on her warm skin tingled. He stopped, sniffing at her sex, groaning like an animal. He breathed deeply, panting, pressing his nose and tongue against her panties, straining to reach her. Fiona gasped, feeling his cold saliva through her thin panties. She groaned, feeling him press against her. She felt herself throbbing, clenching, and needing. She whimpered when she felt him pull away. His eyes were glassy, drugged on her scent. He nipped at her stockings, his hands kneading her thighs. He growled and pushed her up slightly, the shackles on her wrists sliding along the bars easily, leaving her feet dangling. Marshall slid his nails down the sides of her stocking, slicing them off. Fiona shuddered, feeling his claw tips graze her flesh. She squirmed in his grip, feeling her own juices dripping, the tingling sensations his tongue left on her tattered panties sending cooling shocks inside her. He pulled off her shoes and ruined stockings, nipping gently at her ankles, his nails pressed against the back of her knees, making her feel trapped and vulnerable. He kissed her ankle and rose up staring at her body. Fiona blushed heavily, feeling scrutinized. He groaned suddenly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

"Mine…" he groaned possessively, nuzzling her neck roughly.

Fiona could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her sex throbbing. She shivered, unsure if it was out of pleasure or fear. She felt his hard peaks rub against her soft skin, biting her lip to contain the groan the sensation caused. He grabbed her legs roughly and forced them around his waist, ripping at his pants viciously with his claws. The garment dropped down and he hissed, his lips pulled back from his fangs, He pushed his hardened self against her, her thin panties the only thing between them. She leaned her head back against the bars, heated by her body. Hating and loving the feeling of him poised at her entrance. She bucked slightly against him, making him growl, the sound of an animal, a claim to her body and soul.

He pulled off her hat by the ears, her hair cascading down. He sniffed, brushing her hair from her neck and shoulder. He rubbed himself against her slowly, caressing, teasing the place where she needed him…

"Please…" she whispered, unable to handle the agonizingly slow buildup, feeling empty, needing him inside her. He growled against her neck,

"Mine," licking her shoulder.

"All mine…" He growled, the sound resonating in his chest.

Fiona nodded, squirming, trying to force him past her meager covering.

Marshall grasped her thighs, his claws nearly breaking her skin.

"Mine." He snarled, continuing his slow, tortuous rubbing.

Fiona thrashed her head from side to side, hating and needing, she whimpered, squirming.

"PLEASE, Marshall…" she begged, bucking against him, making him hiss at the sensation.

"All mine…" he growled softly, nipping her ear, rubbing himself against her. Fiona felt her heart pound, her sex throb.

"Yes, yes, I'm yours, I'm yours, PLEASE…" she moaned loudly, throwing her head against the bars.

Marshall stilled, grasping her legs, his nails biting into her flesh. He smiled a slow, frightening display of teeth, and roughly ripped her panties from her sliding into her wet, tight channel, making Fiona grip him with her legs and gasp. He slid out of her, the angle rubbing her inside, sending tingles of pleasure through her. She groaned, straining against the shackles, thrashing, needing him.

"Harder." She begged, feeling his snarl reverberate as he pounded into her, throwing her against the cage, his nails sunk into her thighs, her blood dripping off his hands. He nipped roughly at her shoulder, drawing small droplets for him to lick up, tasting her pleasure and fear. He released her legs to grip the bars beside her head, slamming into her, their skin slapping, her breathless moans intertwining with his snarls of desire. Fiona gasped, feeling the pleasure build inside her, her mind dizzy and screaming for release. She groaned, meeting his thrusts, gasping as he swiveled his hips, hitting all sides of her. His snarls echoed in her ears, her whimpering a primal submission to his movements. She could feel her inner heat building coming close, so very close. She moaned, her own nails cutting her palms, her teeth slicing her lip, needing, aching.

"Please…please…please…" she whispered, her channel clenching and throbbing, her heart ponding.

Marshall growled, gaining his own pleasure, thrusting into her the last few times, he pulled his head back, his lips pulled back to his gums, his fangs dripping with cloudy white venom. He thrust into her, his freezing seed spilling into her, the shock of it sending Fiona into her own release, her channel clenching around him tightly, their fluids making her shake as a hot, throbbing sensation spread from their joining through her whole body, riding her blood. She whimpered, knowing she needed his bite, fearing the fangs of his true form, glistening for her blood. He lapped quite roughly at her shoulder, nudging her head to the side with his nose, demanding. She shuddered, turning her head to the side, submitting to his mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, fear like a thick haze around her, making her dizzy. She felt his teeth pierce her skin, his tongue lapping at her spilling rubies. She felt her shoulder go cold, his venom sinking into her rapidly. She gasped shallowly, feeling his venom spread to her hand, making her lose all sensation, spreading through her. When the venom reached her heart, she felt it stutter painfully in her chest, pushing the thick venom through the rest of her body. She shivered, feeling it spread to her other arm and drip down to her stomach, extinguishing her enter of warmth. She shuddered, watching as her breaths fogged in the air, the icy poison spreading through her. She felt her feet go numb, and her thinking slow. She didn't realize when she dropped unconscious, the shackles releasing her to the monster's embrace, that he pulled his teeth from her and walked out of the empty room, the suffering Marshall having been an illusion, along with the cage.


	4. Chapter 4

Fiona awoke slowly, her eyelids still heavy. Her vision was blurry...too blurry to make out anything. She looked around the room she was in, squinting. She breathed slowly, shutting her eyes. She took deep, slow breaths. Trying to perceive with her other senses since her vision was next to useless. She could smell sandalwood and the musky odor of Marshall. She listened, straining her hearing. I sounded like water was running somewhere nearby. Maybe it was a shower. She sighed, opening her eyes, struggling to focus.

_I have to get up_. She commanded herself.

She forced her eyes open and pushed herself up, wincing. She _ached_. She slowly rose up, putting her back against something cold and solid, her movements slow. She looked down, her hair tangling in her way. The tips felt damp, her scalp felt cool. She held a strand up to her nose, breathing in the familiar scent of Marshall's shampoo. Someone had washed her hair. She looked down at herself. She was wearing a white nightgown, which, if she had to guess, was made of silk. There was a brush next to her, on a nightstand, she pulled the brush through her hair, blinking rapidly, pleased that her vision seemed to be clearing up. She was in a bedroom. She had been leaning against a headboard, which, if she had to guess, was made of bone. Marshall seemed to have an affinity for it. In the center of the headboard was a dark red, beating heart. Black and red veins could be made out woven through the entire structure of the bed. Fiona shook her head, creeped out. After her hair was brushed sufficiently, she got up, placing her bare feet on the cool ground. The floor seemed to be made out of a smooth grey rock. She rubbed her face roughly, trying to sharpen her senses and wake herself up. Her head felt like it was full of cotton and her mouth was dry. She sighed and stretched, her body reminding her of what had happened last night. She looked at the wound on her shoulder. It looked more like a shark bite than a vampire bite. She stretched, raising up on her toes, and immediately winced. Her thighs ached. She rose up the thin material of her gown and looked at the back of her thighs. She frowned, not remembering the pain of him digging his nails into her legs, the five little crescent marks on each leg standing in proof. She sighed, rubbing her wrists, which were unexpectedly unwounded, though they were slightly pink from the shackles. She quickly searched the area, identifying that she was in a cave, though it wasn't one she had seen before. She tiptoed through, a series of halls confusing her. She found another bathroom and a kitchen at least. Many of the rooms were locked. She walked into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water, looking around the place. She gulped three glasses of water before sipping her forth, trying to piece together exactly what had happened in her muddled mind and her location. At least her eyesight was clear now. The water seemed to help clear her mind, though her movements were still slower than normal. She was pondering as to why when she noticed movement in the corner of her eye. She glanced over to the doorway, spotting a small creature there, staring at her. It cocked its head and ran across the floor, the tiny bat wings on its back fluttering. It climbed up the table leg and sat in front of her on its haunches. They stared at each other for a moment, its little furry chest heaving from the climb. It looked like a cross between a dragon and a cat. It had little pointy ears with two small horns curving between them. Its fur was a dark grey, though its belly and chest were a lighter shade. Its tail was long and flexible, ending in a sharp arrow like point. It had paws similar to a cats, but with a furry thumb and little black claws. Its forked tongue slid out from its tiny mouth and licked its eyeball under her scrutiny. She pushed her glass of water towards it and watched as it warily circled the glass, its tail thrashing, before it hesitantly dipped its tongue in the glass, tasting the water. It wrinkled its little pink nostrils and shook its head roughly. It yawned, displaying small sharp teeth, and curled up in her lap. It was no bigger than a cat and very warm. She petted the creature, slightly freaked out. She sat like that for a few moments, until she decided she needed to find out where she was. The creature, sensing her movement, jumped off her lap and scurried to the doorway. It looked back at her. She smiled and followed it down the hall, curious. It led her to a small balcony with a large stone chair at the center of the balcony. She peered over the edge. She seemed to be inside a castle of sorts. There were people in red and black robes walking back and forth carrying various boxes through different doors. Some of the people were very obviously demons, horns protruding from their foreheads and twitching tails followed them as they grasped boxes and bags in their clawed hands. Some fould have been mistaken for humans if they didn't have green or purple skin. A few were extreamly small, walking under other's feet, while some were tall enough that they had to bend down to walk through the doorways. She frowned, having garnered no more information as to where she was in the world, only confirming that it wasn't somewhere she had been before. She sighed and patted the creature that had led her there, its tiny form balancing on the balconies railing, utilizing its little claws. She propped her face on her hand, trying to see if there was a distinguishable pattern as to what boxes went where. She didn't see the two gargoyles above her suddenly spring to life and look down at her, its eyes flashing an acidic green. She also didn't notice the black mist reforming behind her into tall, lithe guards. They looked to each other and pulled their swords silently, their voices eerie in their unison as they demanded,

"Who are you and why do you stand so near the Master's throne without fear?"

Fiona froze, turning slowly.

"I-I'm sorry…I didn't know, I-"

"Silence, female. We are the King's guards and…oh, G-guardian Morttus, we didn't see you there, our apologies. We didn't realize the female was under your escort." The two mumbled, sheathing their swords and bowing down to one knee, their clawed paws covering their heart.

Fiona blinked and turned her head, watching as the little creature jumped to balance on her shoulder. It looked at her, sitting on her shoulder, and purred, seemingly amused.

"Morttus? Marshall's _cat?_" she asked disbelievingly at the creature.

It nudged her cheek with its head and looked at the guards, hissing. It waved its tail and the two quickly turned to mist and rose up, reforming into gargoyles and clawing back up to their posts, solidifying into stone.

Morttus twitched his ears and chuckled.

"Yes well, you didn't really think Marshall had an average cat for a pet did you? After all, zombie animals are a tradition you know. Every King and Queen of the Nightosphere has a familiar that is born the moment the new King or Queen is." Morttus said in a rumbly voice.

"You talk!"

Morttus chuckled and jumped from her shoulder, winding around her legs.

"Yes. Though you can only hear my words because you're in the Nightosphere. I'm always talking, you just can't hear me."

"Oh…woah…did I ever upset you? Or do something bad? Tell me now so I'll be able to apologize and never do it again." Fiona giggled, elated to be talking to Morttus – to think she thought of him as a pet!

"No. You're actually a very good human. You give excellent pets." He purred, padding back through the hallway, glancing back to Fiona and beckoning her with a flick of his tail. Fiona followed him, baffled.

"Um…thank you."

"Marshall said to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don't get yourself eaten. I was supposed to take you to the infirmary when you woke, but I knew you wouldn't sit idly by. So we can tour a little first, alright?"

"Ok, sure…but…where are we?"

"We're in the King's castle in the far southern corner of the Nightosphere. It's an immense cave really, in a mountain that was crafted very long ago. It was created during 'The Great Fall', from which the first King claimed the Nightosphere as his domain. Marshall is a descendant from him as all rulers are."

Fiona frowned.

"Wait. If Marshall is the King, where are his parents?"

"Ah…his mother was a demon of great standing. His father was a human, making him a half-breed. All male demons, be they Halflings or Purebloods, are required to slay exactly one hundred demons at the age of ten. If they succeed, they may claim the throne for their own in five hundred years when they battle the ruling parent. If they survive, they become King or Queen. If they don't, they become a part of the mountain."

"That's…barbaric."

"Well, it certainly isn't pretty. Marshall's father faced a terrible death due to Marshall's mother. She starved Marshall of red for months before the battle because he refused to fight to claim the throne. She then threw Marshall's father into his cell, moments before the battle was to take place. Marshall had only ever seen his father twice before and devoured him, not realizing that he had consumed his own father's soul until after the battle." Morttus growled.

"That's horrible…" Fiona murmured, imagining the terror and guilt that his mother must have caused Marshall.

"Yes well, that's true. His demon side had thoroughly taken over his humanity due to the hunger and bloodlust. The soul of his father only empowered him further and the battle didn't last long. He did burn through all his demonic energy though. He stood victorious, covered in the blood of his childhood friends. All demons of his own age were permitted to join. He slew many of the demons he had grown up knowing. He was then banished and spent many years in solitude. He refused to speak to anyone, not even me. Some days I wondered if he had lost his will to speak. However, his silence did not leave him careless. He made sure to stay fed and he never neglected getting me nourishment, though he did banish me to my grave for a very long time. I believe the Ice Queen was the one who really helped him though. She cared for Marshall in a way his mother never had. When the powers of the crown finally drove her mad, they parted ways. It caused Marshall a lot of pain to lose the only motherly figure he had ever known. However, he returned to the Nightosphere strong and very capable. The years following the Mushroom War left the world in a very dangerous place, especially for a Halfling child. He grew strong having to fend for himself. His powers grew immensely."

"What happened to him?"

"He returned to the Nightosphere and defeated his mother. She wasn't expecting him to survive the banishment, much less return with his powers so mastered. He terrified her. His father's blood gave him humanity and a burning desire to right wrongs. He slew his mother and imprisoned her soul deep in this mountain. She's still there, alone. He was the only prince to imprison his parent's soul, rather than devour it. If he had devoured it, he would have become a Pureblood and absorbed his mother's power. His humanity would have been devoured. However, the people respect his choices since he had proven himself in the Great Rites. He's been King since then. He doesn't spend a lot of time here though. I think it brings back bad memories. He returns only when summoned or for official business. This, the Mating Time, is essentially business, though I suppose he can explain that to you in better detail."

"He…kind of explained, before…"

Morttus flicked his tail.

"Well at least he did attempt that much. I'm sorry I'm practically making your ears bleed aren't I? All this history and junk must mess with you, right?"

"No, it's fine. It's nice to know a little more about Marshall and get to know you. You've been with Marshall for a very long time."

"Yes. He's a very good person. Many Kings and Queens have devoured their familiars before. But he spared me. I asked him why once. He said that he couldn't bare the thought of harming me, knowing that I was born for him and him alone. He's my best friend."

"Hey, Morttus, why do you take the form of a grey cat anyway?"

"Well, it's required for any demon except the King to cover themselves in a glamor before emerging to the topside. Marshall toned his appearance to be much less threatening, favoring his original Halfling form. I took on the appearance of a cat because it allows me to keep many of my characteristics. I still get to keep my fur, paws, claws, ears and eyes virtually unchanged. Just as Marshall keeps many attributes of his true form, I followed his example. It's more comfortable that way and takes less energy to maintain the glamor."

"I see. What's that – up ahead?"

Morttus looked forward through the doorway.

"Ah. That's the main kitchen. There's a smaller kitchen stocked for snacks on the top floor, the one I met you in. This is where all of the King's meals are prepared by Madame Rose and Chef Daggr. Are you hungry? We could stop for a snack. There's many things that humans can safely consume here. I wont let you be served anything poisonous."

"Oh sure. I'm mostly thirsty though."

"That's just a side effect. It'll pass just like the floating. Oi! Rose! Daggr! Get the lady a cool refreshment of Dragonfruit. The usual for me."

A stout woman with small horns and red skin turned and rolled her eyes at Morttus.

"Wha do I look like ta ya, ya gluttonous pest! I'm no waiter!" Madame Rose grumbled, her hands on her hips.

Morttus led her to a small stool and gestured for her to sit. He jumped on the table next to her and sat, curling his tail around his paws, his claws working into the wood.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't mean to cause any problems." Fiona apologized to the woman.

She smiled, displaying sharp teeth and chuckled heartily.

"My, my! The lass s'got manners she does! Oi! Daggr, get the lady some Dragonfruit juice and the wee beast some grey matter! You're a fine choice, lass. A fine choice indeed. You a bit peckish? Whats yer species 'n name?"

"Thank you, Madame Rose. I'm human. My name's Fiona." Fiona murmured shyly.

"My, my. Haven't had a human in these parts in a long while. You like a bit o' bread? Supper'll be prepared soon. Ye slept a long while."

A skinny man who reminded Fiona of a snake, walked into the room. His eyes were slitted and a bright yellow, his skin was a dark green and scaly. He smiled when he saw her, two long fangs poking past his bottom lip. He sat a platter of bread and a grey broth with little chunks floating in it on the table and a glass of bright red juice in front of her.

"Thank you." Fiona murmured, captured by his gaze.

He blinked slowly, breaking her from the spell and nodded to her and Morttus before walking silently from the room.

She blinked, her mind momentarily stunned. She shook her head and sipped the juice. It was very sweet, like nothing she had ever tasted before.

"Sorry 'bout that. Daggr ain't a big talker. Nuthin' personal dearie. His voice unnerves most people but he's a master Chef. He can taste the food without touching it and sniff out poison better than a Garrantic Nufflebeast." Rose murmured, turning to knead a massive roll of dough behind her.

Fiona blinked and nibbled the warm bread. She ate two rolls and finished her drink, just as Morttus swallowed the last tidbit in his bowl. He purred and licked his lips, jumping from the table.

"Thanks for the food, Rose. C'mon Fiona, I should take you to the infirmary to treat that bite."

Rose waved her meaty hand

"O' course dear. Don't get the lass lost mind ye, the King'll have yer head!" She teased.

"I'll be sure to keep her on the straight and narrow." Morttus purred, leading Fiona up the stairs.

He stopped in front of an open doorway and banged the point of his tail against the door. A woman with black hair turned back to look at Morttus and Fiona. She was very tall. Her skin was golden yellow with black spots. Her nose was pink. Her hands looked similar to a humans, with the exception that her nails were pointed. She reminded Fiona of a cat she had once seen in Gumball's library. She had a long tail that stayed a few inches off the floor. Her eyes were a beautiful emerald green.

"Oh my! Come in, come in! Fiona right?" She murmured pleasantly.

Fiona stepped in, glancing down nervously to Morttus who gestured her forward, curling up in the doorway.

"Y-yes. Um…I'm a little cut up." Fiona explained, embarrassed.

"Ah yes, Marshall's mate, right? Please don't be shy, I'm sure we can get you all healed up. You did eat before seeing me right? This medicine isn't good on an empty stomach." The woman murmured, picking up several bottles and jars.

"Uh, I had some bread and juice."

"That's good. I was worried I wouldn't get to meet you, you know. I've known Marshall since he was a cub. I was worried he would never take a mate. I'm Amazonia by the way." She murmured, gesturing for Fiona to sit on one of the many cots. Fiona sat down, finding the cot to be surprisingly comfortable. Amazonia tuned in the room looking around, searching, before rummaging through a cabinet and pulling out a dusty bottle. She grabbed a glass beaker from a wooden shelf and sat out several of the jars and bottles she had gathered, including the dusty one from the cabinet. She hummed quietly, mixing the liquids. She soon turned around and handed Fiona the beaker. It had an odd orange liquid in it.

"Quickly, drink it before it gets thick." Amazonia murmured opening several of the jars and mixing the creams and herbs together.

Fiona sniffed the mixture. It smelled like orange juice. She gulped it quickly, coughing on the last swallow. It burned! She could feel it in her stomach, warming her. It tasted like charred oranges.

"Ugh. What was that?" Fiona coughed. Amazonia smiled apologetically.

"Well, around here it's known to speed healing processes. However, it's commonly referred to as 'Fire Water' in the Flame kingdom. It's actually a common beverage there."

"Seriously? I can't imagine drinking that every day!" exclaimed Fiona, handing Amazonia the empty beaker.

Amazonia laughed

"Then we agree on that, honey. Here apply this to any wounds you have. It should help with muscle aches too." Amazonia murmured, handing her a blue jar with a silver lid.

"Thank you." Fiona murmured.

"No problem sweetheart. It's a pleasure to help any Friend of Marshall's." She murmured. Fiona got up and walked towards the door, only to have two children dodge swiftly around her.

"Ami! Ami! Cassy fell again!" The little striped cat-like children yelled.

Amazonia sighed.

"Oh dear. What have I told you about climbing the Great Oaks?" She growled, rushing out.

Fiona compressed herself against the doorjamb to let them through. The kids ran past her, tails thrashing. Amazonia smiled as she gracefully loped past her muttering,

"A doctor's work is never done!" before racing after the children down the hall.

Fiona laughed and looked down at Morttus who rose up and stretched. Fiona smiled at him and murmured

"Very catlike. I'm impressed."

Morttus smiled and purred, padding up the hall. She soon found herself back in the bedroom she had originally woken up in. Morttus jumped up on the bed and licked his paw, grooming his ear.

"You should put some of that cream on before dinner. Marshall's probably off doing a few Kingly duties and grabbing a snack. He'll be calmed down a lot so you don't have to be afraid or anything. He's in better control of himself, though he's still in his true form. If he wore anything less his people wouldn't recognize him. Oh and he told me to give you a letter…" Morttus murmured dragging a small black envelope from under the pillow she had slept on with the tip of his tail. He slid it toward her. Fiona picked it up and walked into the bathroom, muttering a thank you before closing the door. She turned the letter over. The seal on the back was red with an imprint of an M in front of a bat with its wings spread. Fiona smiled and broke the seal, pulling out a piece of parchment. Marshall's handwriting was terrible. No wonder his symbol was just M. Fiona giggled and read the letter while pulling off her nightgown. It was short, but gave Fiona the information she needed.

Fiona,

I know your probably hurting…I am at least. I woke up on the floor looking like I tried to hug a grizzly bear and you look like you kissed a shark, which I'm really sorry for. Morttus was supposed to take you to the infirmary. I'll see you soon. Everyone is all "Whoa, King it's been a while where you been, yeah that's great, sign this please…" and all that crap so I couldn't be there to show you around. I promise I'll behave better. Seriously, swear on my Axe and unbeating heart. Sorry again. I'm writing this as you sleep and I miss you already. Oh and be careful, the cream burns.

-M

Fiona smiled and rubbed the cream onto the bite on her shoulder and the marks on her legs. It warmed immediately once it touched her flesh and burned…Fiona was going to wipe it away but she noticed her wounds were closing at a phenomenal rate so she sat on the bathroom's tiles floor and hissed, breathing slowly, kicking her legs to distract herself from the burn. Slowly, very slowly, the burn receded. She didn't even have a scar! She poked her shoulder. No pain. She sighed and closed the jar, grumbling about the mixtures demons created.

"It's like they either have to make something that's akin to snow being injected into you or give you something a hot enough that a fire wolf would whimper at the damn burn. She sighed and was about to pull on her nightgown (which she was tired of wearing) when a knock on the door made her jump.

"Yes?"

"Marshall left you an outfit. He said not to blame him for it though. He promised to get you some of your clothes tomorrow." Morttus' now familiar voice relayed through the door.

She blinked and rolled her eyes, opening the door and holding her hand out. She felt the clothes being placed on her arm and pulled the clothing through the gap. She got a long sleeve black shirt. The sleeves were lacy and had little lace roses and bats. A jagged cut black and light blue plaid skirt with silver chains on the side and the head of a white bunny printed on the side. She also had black knee-high boots that zipped up the side. There was a black bra and matching underwear in the pile too. She rolled her eyes and pulled on the panties and bra, happy that she at least got some covering. She pulled on the shirt, admiring the lace. It _was_ kind of pretty. She pulled on the skirt and was pulling on one of the boots when a small red box fell out of the pocket on her skirt. She picked it up, curious. It had a little note taped to the top of it.

For you

-M

She opened the box. Inside it was a beautiful ring.

(Picture of ring: media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/295x/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/b/l/blue-topaz-celtic-knot-ring_ )

It was simple, but she loved it. The stone was blue and the ring was silver. She slid it onto her middle finger on her left hand. It fit perfectly. She smiled and kissed the note, sitting the box on the sink.

She smiled at the gift and pulled on the other boot. She walked out of the bathroom and frowned, brushing her hair again. Having it down made it really get in her way…

"Hey do you know where I can get some hairbands?" She asked, poking the sleeping Morttus. He yawned and mumbled

"Left pocket." Before rolling over and curling up again. Fiona blinked and put her hand in the left pocket of her skirt. Sure enough, there were four blue hair ties in her pocket. She sighed, shaking her head, and put her hair into long pigtails, putting the other two bands on her wrists. She sat on the bed, absently stroking the slumbering Morttus. There was a knock on the door. Fiona felt her heart pick up its pace.

"Um…yes?"

"Hey Fiona, um…can I come in?" Marshall's voice floated across the room, muffled by the door.

"It's your room isn't it?" Fiona teased, smiling.

"Yeah…I guess…" Marshall murmured, slowly creaking the door open.

Fiona jumped off the bed and pulled the door open completely, hugging Marshall. She felt him stiffen and then relax, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"How are you feeling?" He murmured, breathing deeply. The relief coming off him was nearly pallable.

"Bored. Thanks for the clothes by the way."

"Yeah, sorry. I'll get some of your clothes from your house tomorrow."

"No rush. How are _you_ feeling?"

Marshall laughed.

"Horny and hungry."

Fiona giggled and rubbed her face on his shirt.

"I was worried you were going to be afraid of me." He whispered.

"Yeah, I was…but you're still Marshall no matter what you look like. Just like Morttus is still Morttus whether he looks like a cat or a freaky cute demon thing." She mumbled, stepping back to let Marshall in the room. He smiled nervously and sat on the bed, examining her face.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Fiona asked, touching her face.

Marshall smiled.

"No, just looking at your beautiful face."

Fiona blushed.

"Pfft yeah whatever. What did you do today?"

"Um, well, I woke up, had a mild panic attack, got us both cleaned up, went to do really boring King stuff, went to the infirmary, had massive guilt attack…what about you?"

"Slept mostly. Nearly got killed by gargoyles. Drank a gallon of water, met Amazonia and the cooks…learned Morttus could speak – that was a freaky realization."

Marshall chuckled and patted the purring Morttus.

"It must be odd for you to hear him speak. I forget you can't always hear him because of your mortality and all."

Fiona rolled her eyes.

"Oh yes, that darned mortality."

Marshall laughed and punched her arm. The two grinned at each other.

"Sooo….what are we doing today?"

"Well…we could try going out…but there would be a lot of awkward questions and I'm not quite ready to reveal you to my…to the….er…people."

Fiona shrugged.

"Well what should we-"

Fiona was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Um, dinner is prepared, Your Excellency…"

"Great. I'm starved. Come on Fiona, let's get some food." Marshall said, standing, and holding out his hand to Fiona.

Oh…um, Sire, a female is requesting your…presence, my Lord."

"Tell her to stuff it." Grumbled Marshall, pulling Fiona to her feet.

"I-It's Lady Vexion, Sire. If you-"

"Yeah, yeah if I refuse to see her she'll do whatever she wants and spout nonsense until I kill her father for her hand, I know." Marshall sighed and placed his palm against his forehead.

"I'll be out in a minute. Insufferable nuisance that girl is."

"Thank you Sire, if I may, please don't dally. She's threatening to eat several of us humble servants if she doesn't see you…"

"Escort her to the dining hall. If she tries to eat anyone, tell her I don't find that appealing in the least and throw some bread at her."

"As you order, my Lord."

Marshall hissed, his tongue flicking out between his fangs.

"I'm going to say and do a lot of things tonight that you probably won't agree with. Would it be too much for me to ask you to play along and just yell at me later?" he sighed, his eyes seemingly much less scary in his pleading.

Fiona smiled.

"Basically, don't contradict what you say, agree to whatever nonsense you babble and I can punch the stuff out of you later for lying through your teeth?"

"Pretty much."

"No, that's not too much to ask – as long as you're willing to take a beating."

Marshall smirked.

"Of course. Also, if you don't mind, try to look as if you don't hate me and if the bitch in red spouts nonsense towards you try not to claw her face off. She will be punished, but for the sake of appearances, I can't kill her outright. Not at first, anyway. Otherwise her parent's will likely say that they have the right to kill you, and I like to keep my tyranny to a minimum."

"Um…ok."

"I hope you're hungry. That woman's voice is enough to spoil my appetite." Growled Morttus, stretching his clawed paws out and padding down the hall, tail thrashing.

Fiona smiled and gripped Marshall's hand tightly.

"Shall we?"

"I suppose so, though I think I could think of several acid pits I would rather be drowning in. Come on." He grouched, walking Fiona down the hall.

Marshall sat down at the head of the table, with Fiona at his Left, Morttus at his Right, Amazonia next to Fiona, and Daggr next to Morttus. Madame Rose poured the drinks with the assistance of some smaller minions. Marshall breathed deeply and sipped his blood wine, the spices zinging his tongue. Everyone was on edge. Fiona looked nervous, Morttus was thrashing his tail, ears back, Amazonia was kneading the wooden table with her claws, leaving small gouge marks. Her whiskers twitched. Daggr was glancing around…which was a big show of emotion for Marshall's reptilian friend. Marshall sighed and murmured,

"May we all survive this dinner without watching me degrade myself in front of Fiona."

"Here, here." Grumbled Morttus, making the company laugh. He took another sip of his blood wine, knowing he wouldn't have time to dine once the she-demon appeared.

A shrill, snarling voice interrupted his third sip.

"Where is he! I demand to see him – NOW!" the voice shrilled, the unmistakably nauseating tone of Lady Vexion.

The doors to the dining hall were thrown open, their faces banging against the wall. A woman with fiery red skin, black stripes, dark smog colored hair flowed down her back and a barbed whip like tail stormed into the hall. Her pointed ears flicked as her six beady black eyes glared at Marshall's company, specifically at Fiona. She hissed, her black, jagged tongue flicking out before prowling to stand at the end of the table. She bowed, flaunting her four hardly concealed breasts at Marshall. She wore very precariously placed leather straps over the meager skins her kind covered themselves in. Her ripped and blood stained loincloth hardly concealed anything. Her cord like tail whipped from side to side. Marshall struggled not to sneer.

"Lady Vixion. To what do I owe this disquieting appearance?"

She smiled, her dark, bruise colored lips pulling back from yellow, jagged teeth.

"I come to ask to bear you offspring, as I have every year since you returned to claim the throne as your own." She crooned, seating herself at the end of the table, a satisfied smirk lingering on her features as she crunched on an eyeball, the white juice dripping from her mouth. Her tongue licked it up slowly, likely in a way she thought sensual but Marshall found only sickening. Eyeballs were akin to the spam of the underworld.

"And I, as every year that you have offered, must decline respectfully." He murmured, lifting his wine from the table slightly. Amazonia gestured for Fiona to do the same. Morttus lifted his bowl with his tail, eyes narrowed. As expected, the succubus jumped to her feet, her hands slamming onto the table with enough force to make the stone pitcher in the center of the table jump, the contents sloshing and nearly spilling. The she-demon hissed, her eyes glowing red.

"WHAT?!" She snarled, her nails dissolving the wood with a hiss, the acid tips leaving yet another black stain on the table.

Marshall smiled.

"I promised that if I didn't receive a mate to bare an heir by the next Mating Time, then I would allow you to carry my offspring, correct?"

The succubus snarled at Marshall.

"Yes, but obviously our King does not hold true to his promises!"

"Ah, ah, ah – if that were true, you know as well as I that the contract would have bound me to you and I would not be walking as a free demon. This is my chosen Mate, Fiona the Human."

The succubus turned to snarl, teeth bared and dripping, at Fiona.

"This? The last remaining human is what you choose to bear your offspring? There's only one instance when the child did not kill the mortal vessel and that hasn't been confirmed! It's little more than an old tale bearing demons tell their offspring to give them nightmares! Why would you choose such a weak creature? Your mother used them as feed bags and slaves!" She huffed, tossing her long hair.

"Very well. If that is what you choose then I challenge your chosen to Primary! Winner proves themselves worth to be your mate!" She bellowed, tongue flicking at Fiona from dripping teeth.

Marshall growled a low threat.

"Get Fiona out of here." He growled, very quietly, though his tone rang with authority.

Morttus nudged Fiona's legs and Amazonia pulled Fiona out of the hall by her arm. Fiona, confused, resisted, bending her head back, peeking around the door as Amazonia pulled her out. She watched as Marshall's jaw unhinged, his teeth dripped a black substance. She saw him jump onto the table and she heard a bone-chilling shriek, just as Amazonia pulled her from view. Amazonia led her back to the bedroom and told her to stay there with only the explanation that

"You shouldn't have to see such things." Before shutting the door. Fiona sat on the bed, flustered.

"What the plum!" She huffed, throwing her hands up and letting them slap onto her legs.

Morttus grumbled that she should try to sleep. He immediately curled up in a grey ball and dozed off, his purring of good dreams reverberating through the room.

"Ugh! Morttus! Wake up!" Fiona grumbled, shoving the little demon. He didn't so much as flick his ear. Fiona sighed and sat, her back propped against the headboard.

"Fine then. I'll just wait." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Stupid vampire."

Marshall lunged across the table, rage consuming him, his only desire to kill, his only thoughts of blood. He felt his body throb, his demonic energy emerging full force. His jaw widened. He felt his gums burn, excreting a neurotoxin that left anyone and anything it touched paralyzed. He could see the body heat of the Daggr and the other servants, scurrying out of the dining room in terror, well versed from their many millennia of service. He felt his body change, his limbs lengthening, the joints growing, his nails forming into long curved claws that were harder than onyx. He could see the pulsing beat of the she-beasts heart as she sat, paralyzed by his gaze. He prowled toward her, reveling in the feel of his muscle sliding on bone, his mouth dripping to claim her soul. He lunged, she dodged, shrieking. He snarled and clawed at her, narrowly missing her. She vaulted over the table, running to grab some sort of weapon. The pulsing in her chest was vivid to his demon eyes. He felt his chest rumble, a purr or a growl emerging. He watched as she ran down the table, her movements impossibly slow to his eyes. How he loved the chase. He crawled up the wall, his nails sinking easily into the stone. He crawled along the ceiling until he was above her, waiting. She grabbed a butter knife and broke it, making the jagged remains sharp. She stared around the room, confused. He dropped, pulling her arm out of its socket with a neat pop. Her grip weakened immensely on the weapon. He snarled pulling her against him. Her pleas reached his ears, promises and begging, black tears rolling like insects from her terror-filled eyes. She was blubbering, sobbing, gasping breaths. All Marshall cared about was the hot gush under her skin, encased in her tangy fear scented body. She struggled, kicking, her barbed tail cutting him. He laughed and licked her thundering pulse, introducing the neurotoxin to her system. He waited as she went limp, her tail falling.

"You wanted to be ussssseful to me. Congratulationsssss, your wissssh issss granted you insssssuferable bitch." He hissed, sinking his teeth into her neck. He tasted poison in her blood, vervain. She was trying to kill him. He laughed to himself, knowing that the poison wouldn't affect him thanks to his human blood – it could dilute the poison to nearly harmless levels. He drank greedily, not bothering to savor the taste of her useless blood, until he felt her heart pound, carrying his own in its momentum, his chest throbbing with each painful beat. He felt alive, he felt human with his heart pounding with his victims. He felt his own heart stutter with hers, returning to its unbeating state as her heartbeat faded, unable to find enough blood to pump. He tasted her terrified half-life on his tongue. He bit through it, power rolling into him, his heart stuttering, the influence of his demon momentarily taking over him as its power grew and faded, momentarily sated with the kill, though the lack of a soul left him hungering. He ripped the dead heart from the corpse of the she-demon and carved an F into the pale, bloodless organ. He swallowed, his bloodlust sated, the blood vision fading, staring at his credit for the murder. His body slowly reformed painfully, the vervain heating his body. If he were human, a doctor would assume he had a fever. He shuddered, the concentration strong in the first few moments after a transformation. He fell to his hands and knees, shuddering at the pain, his hand still gripping the heart. Slowly, very slowly, his human blood diluted the poison. He breathed shallowly as the pain faded. A hesitant knock resounded at the door. He rose to his feet, his clothes ripped and bloody, black blood dripping from his mouth and coating his teeth, a pale heart in his hand, standing before the mutilated body of the succubus. He didn't care how it looked. Had Fiona seen him, she would have found the practice barbaric and cruel, as were most practices of the demon world.

"Enter." He called out, waiting. He watched as the demoness' parents entered, assessing the scene. Their faces showed no remorse for their fallen daughter, merely surprise. Likely it was surprise that he hadn't died due to the poison rather than their daughter's death.

"She didn't survive primary. She was unfit to challenge my chosen mate. My mate was kind enough to leave the body to me. I've drained her." He growled, tossing the heart to the parent's feet, it landing with the mark evident.

"Her name is Fiona. If anyone desires to replace her, make it known that they will die a painful death and I will do nothing to stop her from scouring the entire southern side of the Nightosphere for the bloodlust if she wishes to sate it. While you're at it, serve your King and pose this things corpse on the gate." He growled, glaring at the sweating parents and kicking the body of the she-east towards them.

"O-of course, Master."

He snorted and walked confidently from the room. He made it up to the last step before the pain took him over; he fell to his knees, his breath whooshing from his lungs. He gagged, the volatile demon blood clashing with his human blood. He shuddered and felt Amazonia's familiar hand rub his back as he fell to his hands and knees, choking up the foul black substance, his sides cramping.

"That's it, honey. Get it all out." She murmured soothingly, rubbing his back.

He coughed, jerking with dry heaves, supporting himself with one arm while the other grasped his side. He shuddered, gasping.

"You're going to be fine, hun. Remember the first time this happened? When you fought the heir to the Northern tribe?"

He nodded mutely.

"I know you despise her, but if your mother hadn't sacrificed your father to you, the amount of demon blood you had consumed that day would have weakened you to the point of making you easy prey. I'm not saying her actions were excusable, not by far, but I'm saying that what she did, she did for you."

Marshall rose, using the wall to support himself.

"My father's sacrifice allowed me to fully take on my demon powers without being an inch from death. I'm grateful to him for kindly offering himself to dull my pain, but there were other solutions. She made me what she always dreamed…she made me a monster on that day and a monster I have been every day after that, notwithstanding what form I take, I can feel the hardly repressible demon inside me. You know why I had Ashley turn me into a vampire, to seal my heart. She sealed my demon powers. Even the years of slavery after her curse were a blessing. She gave me my sanity back. She sold my childhood, but she gave me my mind. I am still in her debt. Do not preach to me. You're a dying species, just as Fiona is. I won't have them killing her. I sold my soul long ago. I'll be damned if they take hers too." He hissed, limping along the wall to his bedroom. He turned back to see Amazonia shake her head, tears in her emerald eyes.

"It doesn't have to be like this. If you would just-"

"I won't take her against her will. I won't turn her unless she decides she wants me to."

"Her life is so fleeting Marshall…the three maidens warned you that your only love would leave you with nothing but guilt and memories…"

"Bah! I won't listen to three old hags demented babblings. You're dismissed."

"But Marshall without a-"

"You're dismissed, Amazonia. Don't make me a monster twice on this day."

"Yes, Master. If you've a need of anything, don't hesitate to call me."

Marshall stood, leaning against the wall, until he head Amazonia's light pawsteps fade before sliding to the floor. Two hooded minions emerged from a hallway and (He never saw anything but their hands. Their hands never matched. The two he was looking at now had a complete oddity. One had a claw like an eagle for one hand with a snake tail for the other while the second had what could have been a human hand and a tiger paw gripping a rag) cleaned up the remains of his sickness before they continued down the hall. The servants never spoke, never lost their cloaks, and never showed any emotion. In fact, they didn't eat or sleep to his knowledge either. They didn't have a room. He just knew that they followed orders perfectly and could lift things even he couldn't. Without a command, they cleaned. He eventually rose shakily to his feet and hobbled to his doorway, opening it slowly. He limped into the room and looked down at the slumbering Fiona. Judging by her posture, she had tried to stay awake to confront him. He didn't blame her for wanting to confront him. He felt guilt weigh in his heart at having Amazonia sprinkle a sleeping powder into her drink. He pulled off her boots, skirt, and shirt before covering her with the coverlet. He shook his head and limped to the bathroom to clean himself up. He pulled off his bloodied and torn clothes and crawled under the covers. Morttus blinked at him slowly and nudged his face affectionately before padding out of the room. He scooted up to the sleeping Fiona, spooning her. He placed his lips to her ear and whispered,

"I am keeping you in a careful cage, my dove. The vultures all want your heart…and I sit here whispering sweet nothings, making you mine, my words like a harp. When the time comes for me to open the cage…will you have already forgotten how to fly away?"

.


	5. Chapter 5

Marshall yawned, his pink tongue curling like a cat's outside of his mouth. His hand rested on Fiona's thigh. He smiled, content, for a moment, to simply exist with her. He moved slightly, untangling his feet from the sheets, when pain lanced up his body.

He hissed, his breath leaving him. He froze his body and turned his head slightly, not breathing. Warmth spiraled through him, pleasant, relaxing, and terrible. He growled, feeling his mind cloud with desire to possess. He breathed shallowly, turning his face from Fiona, knowing his very breath was tainted with pheromones that would force her to respond. He didn't want this, dammit! This damned 'heat'! He hated this need. It was as if he had no will of his own! He scooted to the edge of the bed and felt his powers grow; it was like a bubbling of something in his chest. He could smell her. Her scent enveloped him, tickling his senses, making his mouth water and muscles tighten. He wanted to fight for her, to prove he was capable of protecting her, of claiming her. He wanted her soft, warm, and yielding against his body. He wanted her beautiful, golden hair in his fist as he took her. He forced his body to drop from the bed and crawled to the bathroom, determined not to harm Fiona because his body refused to obey him. He sat with his back against the door, his hands fisted at his sides. He breathed deeply, trying to contain himself. He could smell her, her scent very light and stale, but still tempting. A primal part of him snarled that she was a female in his territory and he had the right to claim her. He shut his eyes and imagined a calm lake, surrounded by a grassy field…something soothing. He felt his nails burn, growing, his body feeding them demonic energy. He hissed and his mind flickered images of Fiona under him, her body hot, her chest and cheeks flushed by his actions, the taste of her blood on his tongue, smelling his venom in her, tasting himself inside her, tasting her pleasure. Their hearts pounding together as their sweat intermingled, his hands aching to mark her as his for everyone to see, to carve the symbols on her and drain her life. Or better yet, she would run and her blood would zing across his tongue with her fear, the sweet smell clouding his mind, he could see her, trying to fight, holding up her fists…only to have him block every blow. She would run, and he would give chase, closing in on her, taking her with his hand over her mouth, blood and sweat intermingled and dripping off their bodies. He wanted her. She was already his. Her would tske her, mark her for all to see, claim that beating heart. Marshall felt his body burn, the need growing. How sweet her fear, her terror would taste. How salty would her tears be? How hot and tight her body wound in a fit of terror as he- He jumped, his body shaking, sweat gathering in a light layer all over, shaking his head. He grabbed the essence of the demonic energy and pulled it back. He watched his nails lengthen to a sharp, curved point before receding back to their original form; they remained slightly pointed, though dull. It was difficult to pull back whatever his energy touched. He touched his tongue to his teeth, thankful that they hadn't lengthened noticeably, though some venom dripped from them. He swallowed the clear fluid, ignoring the ache in his gums, begging him to bite something, someone. He rose up, trying to lock down his demonic powers. They seethed, spilling as the heat caused them to be at their peak. Calming his demonic powers was much like putting water back in a cup once spilled, quite nearly impossible. His body was like a cloth, absorbing the power. He remembered his childhood, when his powers had been unsealed, and he had learned the cruel power he harbored within himself and he faced his friend…or so he thought. They would playfully fight in the burned lands, tossing molten rocks and throwing things for his friend's fire wolf. They would throw minor attacks, his friend's black little claws making him bleed, but nothing major. He, nipping his friend's shoulder, causing red droplets, but nothing wounding. Marshall remembered his friend's last day so clearly…because he remembered the guilt, the shame. He remembered the argument his mother had with his father when he was so young, saying his place was with the demons he would lead one day. He never saw his father, save for when he was very young and shortly before his death, when he was nearly mad from the forced abstinence from red. He heard them arguing. Shortly after his mother dragged him to his friend's and talked lowly to the parents. He remembered his mother walking over to them, her long raven colored hair swaying. She had gotten on one knee and told him that his friend had done something very bad, and had to be punished. She told him that it was his duty as future king to see his punishment met out. His mother had been so angry when he said he didn't want to. She had struck him, knocking him down, and his cheek bled from the scratches she gave him. He looked over to his friend whose father was talking to him. He watched as his father pointed to Marshall and murmured something. His friend, Nuka, had nodded and glared at Marshall, rushing at him. Marshall had been so surprised and confused. His friend had slashed at him, throwing him around, kicking him. He had been so afraid…and it had hurt so much…he remembered coughing up blood and just staring at the dark red splatter thinking _that's my blood_ and being so angry all of a sudden…he screamed at his friend, asking him why he was doing this. His friend had lifted him up by his shirt and growled that he was going to be king if Marshall died…that his father said he could be spared from the beatings tonight if he killed Marshall and became the heir to the throne. Marshall had tried so hard to talk, to explain that he didn't even want to be king, that Nuka could have it if he wanted, they didn't have to fight…he was so surprised when he had felt his friend's hand claw inside him, gashing open his stomach. He had looked at the wound, watching as his own blood soaked his pants, his shirt in tatters. He had been so afraid and he heard his mother yelling at him to use the power. She was snarling at him to use his power, he rooted around himself, feeling so weak, that everything hurt so much, and he just wanted it to stop. He wanted it to _stop._ He felt a darkness flow into his arms, his legs, his body, a strength. He lashed out at his friend, missing when his friend jumped back. But his nails…something dark came out of them. He could feel the power he had channeled into them, the massive power…he was horrified, wanting to call the blow back, knowing even in his youth the danger he had just unleashed. He watched as the dark slash marks struck his friend, saw his surprise, as his hot red blood gushed forth and he fell back…that was the first time Marshall had found his inner demon. He had sort of blacked out. When he came to there was something hot and wet in his mouth, he was chewing on something. He pulled back and looked at it, realizing it was an arm. Realizing it was his friends _arm_. He had stared in horror, looking at the bloodied remains of his friend…his friend's eyes, once a vibrant yellow, now stared at nothing, flat in death. Marshall's mother had laughed and said he was good, asking if he wanted more, complimenting that he had just been testing the weaker demon's strength, what else could be expected, he was her offspring after all, boasting at how quickly he was to devour the essence for his own ends…Marshall had puked. He puked, and puked, puking up bright red blood, his mind screaming that it was Nuka's blood, he had killed him, he was a _murderer_…his mother had dragged him back to the castle, slapping him for crying, demanding he wash. He had been so surprised when he had washed, and found no injury. None. His body was unmarred; he didn't even have a scratch. But he could smell his blood. He had remembered his mother, boasting about him using the lesser demons powers for his own means. He suddenly understood that he had healed himself by devouring Nuka's blood and flesh. His stomach heaved, but only dry rasps escaped him. He had hated himself, thinking _I killed him. I killed my friend. I killed Nuka! I'm…I'm a monster…_and shuddered, looking at his hands, at the blood under his nails. Marshall sighed, shaking his head, pulling himself from the reverie. He had understood in that moment that his power was too massive, he couldn't control it. He remembered that his mother always saying his power resounded with every beat of his heart. He had been so grateful to find a way to make his awful heart stop beating. He would not let the resurgence of his power harm Fiona. He couldn't! She was his light in the darkness. She was so mortal, so frail. If he bit her too deeply in his lust, he could easily kill her. She felt she was so strong, so very strong…she was radiant. Radiant like the sun, scorching him with her love, dousing him in the light…but, then again, he had never been a creature of the light. He was born to the darkness. Did he have the right to pull her into his darkness? To take the sun from her? To force her to hide in the shadows as he did, feeding on the red of others? He couldn't imagine Fiona being happy that way…living off strawberries when her teeth would ache for blood. He didn't want to see her, staring as he had done in his teen years, down at the bodies of the animals he had slain when the bloodlust overtook him. He would hate to see her horror…her pain…as she tasted the animal's last thoughts…she would starve herself of the red, lashing out, hating him for what he had made her. No. He couldn't _stand_ for that…to see a hatred in her eyes. He imagined her, aging. She would die one day…she would _die_. She was dying right now, getting older as every second passed, every moment she breathed she aged, while he did not. He would lose her. All he would have left would be her grave and memories. He would eventually forget…he would forget her scent, her taste. He would lose her. He would lose the light. She would be snuffed out by time like a weak candle flame. He felt his chest ache, fighting down a sob. He wouldn't let her fade. He would…he would be with her in any way she would allow. If some day she wanted the Dark Gift, he would give it to her. But not before. Not until she was ready and willing. He sighed, rubbing his face roughly. He needed to tamp down his desire. He shut his eyes reaching out, finding Amazonia's mind. It burned a vibrant, healing green, swirling with color.

_Amazonia, I need you to craft a brew to hinder the heats effect on me._ He waited, listening. He knew it was always disturbing for most, to suddenly have a voice that is not your own in your head. He waited.

_O-of course, I'll prepare a batch right away. Anything else?_

_Prepare our cloaks. I'll have to address the people with her tomorrow and I feel it would do better for her to wear the royal robes._

_I'll see to it myself._

_Thank you._

He cut the connection, knowing it would take her a moment to recover.

_Morttus, have Fiona's clothes arrived?_

_Yes. Though the cat is causing trouble. She's rather put out with you._

_She's always put out with me lately, but she knows I'll do everything I can for Fiona. Also, I'll need you to shift to your larger form. _

_Are we addressing the subjects?_

_Yes, tomorrow. I'll need to claim Fiona as mine and make it known that I won't tolerate treason. Seems I'll upset her twice in two days. _

_Maybe you should start a record. _Morttus teased

_Maybe. _Marshall chuckled and cut the connection.

He would have to see the sacrificial ceremony as well…would the Tablet of Rulers refuse her blood? He slowly rose to his feet, his feet tingling at the unusual sensation of touching ground. He would have to tell Fiona, and confront her…she wouldn't agree. He wanted this stupid ceremony over and done with. He could force her by ensnaring her mind…but that would be cruel. He rubbed his face. Maybe it would be for best for them both if he just compelled her and wiped her memory. But her mind was strong…he would need to have her thoroughly distracted. He sighed, staring at the wall.

"Am I really monstrous enough to take her will? To ensnare her to do my bidding?"

He smirked. At least the venom in her system would be burned up. To maintain the connection, his demonic essence would be burned from her, used up. He roughly rubbed his face, scouring his nails into his flesh. His face warmed slightly, as the wound healed. He was going to do something monstrous. He was going to take Fiona's will, and then rip away her memory.

Fiona awoke with a yawn and stretched. She looked around, groggily and annoyed when she didn't see Marshall.

"What a jerk." she muttered, looking down at herself. Someone had taken her clothes! All she had on was her underwear and a bra! How deep do you have to sleep to not feel someone taking off your clothes? She glared, her hands curling into fists.

"I bet it was Marshall…geeze. That's twice he's taken my clothes off while I'm out!" she grumbled, crossing her arms. She sighed, glancing up at the ceiling. She ran her fingers quickly through her hair and was just about to get out of the bed when she heard the bathroom door squeak. She glanced up in surprise to see Marshall walking out of it. She was still really mad at him for just pushing her away and sending her to their room like a child. She was prepared to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He looked…very sad. Like he had just lost something precious. She blinked, staring at him.

"What?"

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that I've never had the privilege to embrace the light, but with your golden hair it's almost as if you've become my own personal sun, keeping the darkness at bay."

She blinked at him.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes. I'm fine. But you won't be for much longer." He whispered, his voice like a caress.

Fiona felt a cold shudder of fear tickle up her spine.

"W-what do you mean?"

Fiona watched as he smiled, his teeth growing longer. His eyes glowed an unnaturally fierce red. She felt her heart pound. It was like she couldn't breathe, like something heavy was sitting on her chest. Her vision began to dim…she shook her head roughly, gasping. She looked up at Marshall who seemed to have appeared at the side of the bed.

"Hello? Fiona? I asked if you wanted some breakfast?" He laughed, waving his hand in front of her face.

"Oh. Uh…right. Sure."

"Ok then, what do you want?"

"Uh…some fruit would be nice."

"Fruit it is."

She watched as he shut his eyes. The room suddenly seemed very full of something, like the pressure had risen. It had just begun to feel uncomfortable when he opened his eyes and the feeling dissipitated.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" he smiled, holding out his hand to her.

She shook her head.

"Nothing…I guess…I'm still half asleep. I'm imagining things."

He laughed.

"I'm sorry; you're probably still drowsy from last night."

He pulled her close, pressing her against his naked body, one hand caressing down her lower back.

"Are you still angry with me?" he whispered, gently caressing her the side of her mouth with his lips, trailing kisses down her neck.

"I think so." Fiona murmured, breathless.

"Mmm…I see. Well then, I'll have to change that, won't I? What do you intend my punishment to be? Will you tie me down, forcing me to your whims? Or will you place a collar around my neck, force me to submit to your commands? Perhaps you would rather keep the original arrangement and simply beat me? I won't fight back, you're correct in meting out punishment. If fists aren't enough, I can get you knives, whips, guns. Do you wish to make me bleed? What would you have me do, to make it up to you? I can show you where to cut, to cause me a great deal of pain, without letting me pass out or d-"

"STOP IT!" Fiona screamed, her heart pounding, her stomach churning.

Marshall blinked, his eyes refocusing as he looked down at Fiona.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm not going to do any of that crud to you!"

"But you said you were upset, and you originally wanted to beat me. Have you decided on something else?"

Fiona hid her face against his shoulder.

"Just…hold me."

She felt Marshall's arms press her close against him.

"Ah…what innocent torture…your smile…your touch…you are cruel indeed." Marshall whispered against her pulse.

"M-Marshall…are you ok? You don't sound like yourself. You sound like…"

"Like a demon, whispering sweet nothings? Like my very tongue drips, a poisoned honey that you know is deadly…but can't help but want to taste? Yes. I'm just a bit hungry after last night is all. I'm sorry. I'll be back to myself after I eat."

"Um…where are your clothes?"

"In the bathroom. They were a little messed up. Why? Do you mind?" he laughed.

Fiona blushed, grumbling about the indecency of vampires.

Marshall kissed her cheek, pulled the sheet off the bed, ripped it, and tied it around his waist, effectively covering himself.

"Better?"

Fiona rolled her eyes.

Marshall caressed her cheek.

"Such a lovely color…I dread the day…it will fade to grey...what do you think?"

"Is that a new song you're working on?"

"Perhaps."

A quiet knock on the door.

"Enter."

Amazonia walked in, pulling a cart.

"Hey I brought your breakfast."

The cart had bowls of several fruits, only a few of which were red.

"What's Marshall going to eat?"

Marshall walked over to the cart and, after sniffing the contents, chugged the entire pitcher full of a drink. Amazonia immediately, tried to pull it away from him, her eyes wide. They wrestled over the pitcher, until Marshall suddenly released it. Amazonia avoided narrowly falling, her tail lashing to maintain her balance. She looked into the pitcher, shock on her face.

"That an overdose!"

Marshall wiped the contents from his mouth and muttered.

"You're dismissed."

"But you can't honestly intend- we need to get your stomach pumped you could-"

"I said you were dissssmissssed!" Marshall growled, his eyes glowing.

Amazonia glared at him, a quiet growl building in her chest.

"As you would have it, _Master._" She hissed, the words acidic and lingering as she stormed from the room.

Fiona blinked, feeling odd. She had never seen Amazonia have an unkind expression…

"Marshall, maybe you should listen to her-"

"I'm fine, Fiona. Don't worry about it." He grumbled, picking a strawberry from a small bowl and sucking the red from it.

Fiona blinked, watching as his teeth elongated, his nails blackened and curved to a sharp point, his eyes glowed a vivid, rabid red, his skin paled to a pallid hue…he turned to her, his smile stretching, the side of his face ripping to reveal his teeth…so many teeth, covered and dripping, his nose twitched. He was scenting her. She felt her heart…she felt every beat. Her instincts were screaming at her to shut her eyes, to look away, to run…what she was seeing was a monster, a predator, something to be feared. She swallowed, her mouth dry. She could feel the air caress her lips as it left her, feel her skin heating and oozing a sweat…she could hear her own heartbeat, her breathing, her own mortality…ticking by. The monster purred, and swung his nails at her. She blocked with her arms, feeling pain and a flash of heat as her blood began to drip. She stared at the monster as he licked his nails, his pink tongue dripping black. He pushed her, making her fall. He clawed his way on top of her, ignoring her kicks. Her heart was pounding, slamming against her ribs, exclaiming what she couldn't. _I want to live. I want to live. I don't want to die. Don't, stop, it hurts…please…_the monster above her lunged, snapping at her. She wrapped her hands against his shoulders, holding him at bay. His teeth snapped, inches from her face. His black poison dripped onto her face. It was cold…so cold it burned. She gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut. His nails ripped at her, tearing into her flesh, ripping away, shredding her. She could smell an awful metallic tang. Her blood. She shuddered as the scarlet pooled around her at the monster's touch. The monster was growling, its lips twitching near it's black gums. She gasped, breathing in the monsters noxious breath. It smelled like rot. She gagged, fighting, struggling. Her arms were weakening. _Am I going to die of blood loss or will my strength give out first?_ The monster growled, feeling her arms weakening. It pressed it's advantage, its nails snagging on the girl's ribs. Fiona whimpered, fear pervading her. She looked up, into the monsters eyes. Black tears dripped…like tainted angel feathers, onto her pale, pale skin. She choked, swallowing, her own blood bubbling at the side of her mouth. _"Why are you crying?"_

Marshall coughed, tears dripping from his eyes. He rubbed the tears away, flinching as Fiona stepped into his trap, his miasma ensnaring her, claiming her mind. She had fought back, but he had shown her the object of her fear – his truest form. She feared him, and his cruel smile. He felt a wet laugh, bordering on a sob, emerge from his chest. He covered his face with one hand, maintaining the illusion. Her whispered question cracked his façade, making his will crumble. But he had done enough. He heard her body hit the floor, unconscious. Marshall shuddered and felt his power lash out. He reached, cutting, killing…the castle's floor ran with a crimson river. Amazonia pushed aside the door.

"Marshall…what have you done?"

Marshall dropped, his knees slamming against the floor.

He shuddered and whispered,

"I broke her. I snuffed out the light, and now all I see is darkness."

**Hey, sorry people I know this chapter was kind of short. I'm not done yet so don't worry!**

**But…what do YOU want to happen?**

**Message me.**

**Don't be afraid to tell me.**

**I write for you.**

**-Wolf Dawn**


	6. Chapter 6

Gumball slowly opened his eyes; he was so stiff…by Glob he HURT.

"Ah…" he groaned, glancing around to his surroundings, the muscles in his neck aching. He moved his arm slowly, the muscles protesting at the movement. There were shackles around his wrists. He rolled his tongue around, trying to wet his dry mouth. The only illumination was a single candle on the bedside table. It sat in a rusted candleholder, the half burned box of matches resting beside it. He coughed, his dry throat protesting as he tried to take deep breaths.

"Hello? What are your demands? I know your there. Or at least watching, Ice Queen."

A cruel laughter filled the room. Insane laughter. Familiar laughter.

Slowly, she stepped from the shadows at the end of the bed. Her hair falling around her shoulders like the first snow fall of winter, her skin a frosted blue, glittering with tiny pinpricks of the eternal ice. Her eyes flashing like a sapphire, iced with madness. Her teeth, jagged and cruel, flashed with her smile, her usual dark dress flowing around her. She walked from the foot of the bed to his right side, her chilled white nail running up his blouse-covered chest.

"Oooh always so smart my Prince. I knew you would figure it out. Even without the ice. Doooo tell, what gave it away?"

"Why would I tell you?"

Ice Queen clapped her hands, squealing. She flopped on the side of the bed, laying across his knees.

"Hmmmm…secretive…just like your secretly wondering how long pretty princy will sit and wait, sit and ache, sit and hunger…wondering how long until your precious Fiona come barging in with the feline, until she breaks you free and takes you from me. Until she holds you and you think of everything except what's going on in your pants. You name every element you can think of, you imagine slime running in rivlets down your body and the scent of anything…anything except her strawberry shampoo. Or is it sandalwood now? Surely the vampire has been all over your little warrior enough for his scent to ruin hers. When will you wake up and realize while you were playing the one in distress, Marshall was sitting behind his chess board and moving his little pieces to snatch her away? I hear human blood is a real commodity these days. Imagine, with the bite and his venom, how do you think he did it? Do you think he waited, wooed her, before taking all she could give him? Hm? Or do you think he just overpowered her right where she was, taking her in the woods, while you were off with the other princes going over silly little matters…?"

"Shut up, Ice Queen. I've no desire for your deranged babbling."

"Hmmmm…I wonder…is it the fact that you've never felt a woman, that leads you to desire her? She is young, that is true, but she can't know just how to touch…she hasn't learned to lick and give, rather than take. She doesn't know how to take over and demand what she wants. She simply rocks along with whatever the little vampire desires, whimpering at his touch. She doesn't know how to give as much as she takes. I do. She doesn't know how to drag it out, make the buildup slow and hot and painful. She doesn't know…how to make a man beg." she whispered. She sat up and pulled her legs onto the bed, crawling up to hover over the prince.

"Look at you. You don't know how to deal with yourself. Alone, at night, groaning, hands fisted in the sheets, running ice cubes down your body in an effort to just cool off, to make the ache stop…but the last few times…I watched. Because the second you felt the ice touch you, the ice licked a glacial kiss across the place you need to cool off most, you lost it. You let yourself go and for one deliciously guilty moment, you floated in the bliss. Red stained your cheeks. You woke to wet sheets and a satisfied body. How silly…to think that you couldn't even handle that much stimulant. Silly boy. It will take a while, but I will train you. We won't be interrupted. Your precious warrior is off with her vampire, _assisting _him through his little mating courtship problems. I wonder how long it will take me to freeze and shatter her from your psyche. How long before your childish fantasies are replaced with sensual, carnal, needs. You are a Prince…" she murmured, pecking his cheek. She giggled and floated to the doorway.

"I will make you a King." She growled, striding from the chamber.

Gumball lay atop the cool sheets, pulling himself into an aching sitting position, he rested against the headboard. He swallowed, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"My kingdom for a glass of water…" he chuckled, running his dry tongue over parched lips.

The Ice Queen stood in her room, gazing around at all the pictures she had gathered over the years of Prince Gumball. She sighed. She slid down into a chair. It, like all the furniture in the castle (except for Gumball's chamber) was made of ice. The ice was no longer cold to the touch to her, but the witch girl had given her the advice to make Gumball's room without ice, for his comfort. How often she forgot the feeling of cold. She sighed quietly, watching her beloved penguins bustle about. She walked into her bedchamber and slid off her dress and into her nightgown. She curled up under the animal hide, thinking. She had Gumball. Her prince. Her desired. But she knew that he wouldn't give in by force. He had nautical disillusions about the adventurer girl. Could she really make him see that there was no future for him with the girl? She sighed and curled on her side. No…she was older. Experienced. She was a Queen of her own dominion, dammit! Not even Glob would stop her from achieving this goal! She sat up and threw off the covers. Surely the boy, and that's what he was – a boy, was thirsting and hungering by now. It had been days. She grabbed one of her penguins as it carried a tray of bread and candies. She took it from the penguin, Griselda, and it relinquished it with a quack.

"Thank you. Don't let anyone enter." She ordered her, walking off to the captive Prince's chamber.

"Yoohoo, my prince, are you hungry? I've brought you some food." She called, pushing open his door with her back, since her hands were full of the ice tray. He glared at her as she entered, but his eyes devoured the sight of the ice tray. However, he frowned.

"Water?" he asked, his voice rasping.

The Queen smiled and sat the tray on his bedside table, careful to avoid the candle.

"Thirsty?" she asked, watching as he swallowed.

"Parched." He rasped.

"Water freezes too easily. However…" she murmured, conjuring a blunted icicle.

"Feel free to melt this however you like." She murmured, holding it against his lips. She waited, wondering if he would remain stubborn. However, soon his little pink tongue caressed the tip, drawing a droplet. He groaned and latched onto the icicle, sucking, rolling his tongue over it, desperate to draw out the water. He gasped, releasing the tip, his chilled tongue running over his cooled lips, before he greedily sucked on the icicle again, swallowing, licking and sucking furiously. Ice Queen smiled and pulled the rounded spike from his mouth, out of his reach, relishing the whimper that escaped from him.

He swallowed, shivering.

"Cold?"

"Please I just…I just want something to drink. If it's all you've got, give me the icicle!"

Ice Queen smiled, and rose from her seat on the bed, smashing the icicle.

"I don't have water." She murmured, walking from the room.

Gumball cursed and thrashed in the shackles, looking around for the thousandth for something to pick the locks on his shackles with. He jerked, the shackled clanking. He kicked, cursing again. He stopped when her heard footsteps outside his room. The door opened slowly, revealing Ice Queen holding a decanter of ice and a glass, filled with a brown liquid. She stopped by his bedside and poured some of the liquid into the glass. He struggled and managed to sit up, holding the glass to his lips.

"Drink it very slowly – " she warned, but it was already too late. The Prince had gulped the liquid, swallowing thickly, gasping as the whisky burned down his throat, making him gag.

He coughed, shaking, his stomach blossoming with heat as if a flame had been born there. He felt the heat spread slowly from his stomach through his body, making his head spin.

"Glob…" he choked, coughing and gasping.

"I warned you…" she murmured, giggling behind the hand held to her lips.

"Yeah…" he rasped, tentatively sipping the remaining liquor.

He shuddered, feeling his body heat and his cheeks flush.

Ice Queen smiled and sighed, leaning onto the wall.

"How much do you think you will have to drink before your drunk?"

Gumball rolled his eyes and sipped the whiskey.

"Believe it or not, I've been drinking quite well from the royal wine cellar for quite some time. Naturally, I'm not fond of the brutish stuff. I prefer a nice cosmopolitan."

Ice Queen shook her head.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

Gumball smiled.

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"Yes well, I suppose there's a reason you like the sweet stuff. Your body can't handle anything devoid of sugar."

Gumball laughed loudly, his drink sloshing out a bit as he flashed a cheeky smile.

"I b-bet you want some s-sugar." He chuckled, drinking from the half-empty glass.

Ice Queen's eyebrow rose at the sudden change.

"I suppose candy wine isn't as strong as true, pre-war whiskey."

Gumball hiccupped and grinned, drinking more of the dark honey-colored liquor.

Ice Queen laughed and reached to pull the glass from Gumball's warmed hands, his flushed face frowning.

"H-hey! T-that's mine!"

"I think you've had enough." Murmured Ice Queen, chuckling, tugging gently on the glass.

"N-no!" hiccupped Gumball, grabbing Ice Queen's wrist as it began to pry the drink from his hands.

"Gumball, you've definitely had enough. If I didn't know you better I would say you were drunk. In fact, I do know you. You're drunk. Give me the glass."

"No I g-got a better idea, you give me more of your w-whisk-key."

"Gumball, you've already had too much and you want me to give you _more? _You can't be serious." Ice Queen laughed, amused at the young Prince for using such an 'undignified' way of speaking.

Gumball didn't seem to have heard her. He was staring at his right hand which grasped her wrist firmly in it's heated grasp.

"You're _cold_. Like, really, really cold. Did you fall asleep in a snow drift or something?"

Ice Queen blinked at the Prince, confused.

"Gumball, I'm Ice Queen. If you want warmth you'll have to arrange something with the Flame Prince."

"Are y-you ok?"

"Um…yes. I'm normally like this. However, your hand is rather warm. Very hot, in fact. So if you don't mind, please release me and the glass."

"Yeah, y-yeah," he mumbled, examining the fur pelts he sat on top. He relinquished the glass and her wrist and began looking at the several pelts

"C'mere." He grunted, shuffling, his shackles clinking, rising so that he could maneuver a large tawny pelt from under himself. He held the recovered pelt up and looked to Ice Queen expectantly.

She placed the glass back on the tray.

"What?"

"You're c-cold. You need a-a bl-lanket."

**I am SO sorry guys & girls **

**I've been crazy busy with exams and had no time to write**

**I'll start writing right now!**


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